Coming Home
by anopinionatedwoman
Summary: Darkness stalks the goblin kingdom. Finally the goblin queen must leave the shadows to fight for her oathbound. Finally the goblin king must accept a queen not of his choosing. But they don't have to like it.
1. Introduction

**INTRODUCTION**

**This is my first story, and it is developing in ways I had not anticipated. **

**My starting idea would have resulted in a little piece of fluff no longer than ten-page story. As you may have noticed, it has since grown in scope and size, and it is now a sprawling fantasy story that keeps growing with every development.**

**I hope you enjoy the story anyway, and I am very grateful for any criticism that will help me make the story better in the next re-write.**

**I don't own Jareth or Sarah, they are not my invention, but the rest is all mine.**

**In the following is a list of names of some of the acting characters, kindreds and places (in alphabetical order) in the story to help you keep up with what is going on:**

**

* * *

****Some Kindreds of the Underground**

**Audreys: **A kindred created from the queen's mind, they are vicious hunting plants. The queen saw the "Little Shop of Horrors" in the Above and was unduly impressed.

**Dwarf: **A very long-lived kindred. The are short and powerful. Their eyes can see in the dark and their minds are deep and inquisitive. They excel in all trades and create beauty with their hands and minds.

**Fae: **An immortal kindred. They are tall, slender and beautiful and possess magic as their birthright. They are also conniving and arrogant.

**Falin: **An immortal sadistic kindred universally hated and loathed in the underground. They have powerful magic and can wipe out the existence of their victims.

**Haltija:** Also called brownies, a near-immortal kindred with strong innate magic. They are short and stocky.

**Maighdean-mhara:** The people of the sea. A sub-type of the fae, they live in the sea and are ruled by the Sao Llyr, the sea king.

**Odei: **An near-immortal kindred of wild beauty, they turn into wind at will. When they tire of life, they turn into storm and merge with the winds of the underground. Many of them are wanderers, and healers of renown.

**Orc:** A mercenary kindred, ugly, vicious and excellent fighters. They tend to die young.

**Shedim:** A long-lived kindred, gentle and without guile. They are hated in the underground because their voices cause madness. They posses the magic of creation which they cast in songs of power.

**Some of the People in the Story**

**Arrawn:** A fae, King of Annwyn, a friend of Jareth

**Aylmer:** A fae, lover to king Lleu in Ardar Iforas.

**Ankimo: **A Hundun, the shedim Nehorai's alter ego when he travels with the queen through the goblin kingdom in disguise.

**Babdh:** A demon haunting the borderlands of the goblin kingdom. She hunts with a flock of blood-beaked crows who join her in killing her hapless victims.

**Bergljot:** A dwarf, previously of Ardar Iforas, later a refugee to the goblin kingdom. A cook in the king's kitchen.

**Cethur Mc Greine:** A fae, Ard Ri (High King) of Danu over Falias, Gorias, and Murias, Jareth's father

**Cuchulain:** A direwolf, companion to Toby

**Eek: **The goblin queen's goblin, friend and bodyguard (as best he can)

**Eir:** A dwarf trader, the queen's alter ego when she travels the goblin kingdom in disguise

**Eirlys:** A fae, a fianna from Annwyn, a warrior mage. Friend to Heulwen.

**Eriu:** A fae, Queen of Danu over Falias, Gorias, and Murias, Jareth's mother

**Etain of the White Wind:** A Cwn Annwyn, the only hound of Annwyn outside of Annwyn, a present from Arrawn of Annwyn to Jareth

**Féilim Ó Súilleabháin:** A fae, ambassador of Ardar Iforas at the goblin king's court.

**Hina'ea:** An oathbound odei, sister to 'Lo lani, healer

**Heulwen:** A fae, a fianna from Annwyn, a warrior mage sent to aid the goblin kingdom. Wife to Toby.

**Hurin:** A fae, a delegate of Matagamon, a neighbouring country of the goblin kingdom

**Ikiaq:** An oathbound haltija. Jareth's milk-mother, she is the castellaine of the castle in the city in the goblin kingdom.

**Jareth ap Cethur Mc Greine: **A fae, the goblin king and chosen of the labyrinth

**Jódís:** A dwarf child, daughter of Bergljot.

**The Labyrinth: **An immortal creature whose physical being is the goblin kingdom itself and who has powerful magic. The labyrinth chooses a king and a queen as its companions. Its existence is only known to those in the goblin kingdom who have sworn a blood-oath of fealty to the king and queen.

**Lleu:** A fae, king of Ardar Iforas, the kingdom at the winter border of the goblin kingdom. He is ambitious and ruthless.

**'Lo lani: **An oathbound Odei and councilor of the king

**The man without a name: **The unknown enemy of the goblin kingdom, he is trying to take the power from the king and began the war.

**Morveren:** A Maighdean-mhara, ambassador to the goblin king's court from the sea, daughter of the sea-king Llyr. She is the king's lover and companion for many years.

**Nehorai:** An oathbound shedim, friend and bodyguard of the queen

**Nerromiktok:** An oathbound haltija, Jareth's milk-sister and the mistress of the king's stable of great-horses.

**Ningyo: **An oathbound Maighdean-mhara and councilor of the king

**Porr:** An oathbound dwarf, chancellor and friend of the king

**Sarah Williams: **A human, the goblin queen, chosen of the labyrinth

**Sed: **The king's goblin, friend and bodyguard

**Shuck and Three:** Sarah's dogs. Shuck is a sweet and dumb retriever, Three is an English sheep dog. His real name is Merlin, but he is called Three as he is Sarah's third sheepdog.

**Siobhán: **An oathbound Fae, the clerk of the privy council

**Sindri:** An oathbound dwarf, advisor and friend of the king.

**Tadgh o Conghaile:** A fae, commander in Lleu's army

**Tiernan ap Cethur Mc Greine:** A fae, the brother of Jareth, commander of the goblin king's army

**Tobias O hEachtianna:** An oathbound fae, councilor and friend of the king

**Urit:** An oathbound shedim

**

* * *

Some of the Countries and Places in the Story:**

**Countries:**

Annwyn

Ardar Iforas

Danu

Khôràsan

Makgadikigadi

Matagamon

The Plains of Ashes

**The Goblin Kingdom**

_** Rivers:**_

Haliakmon

Naryn

Tanais

_** Mountains:**_

Queen's Palisades

Simien Mountains

Kular Range

_** Others:**_

_ Ikh Bogd Uul: _Canyon land of the western reaches

_ The Central Plains: _fertile farmland in the middle of the kingdom

_ The Mists: _The borderland of reality in the heart of the goblin kingdom

_ The Leaping Waters: _A huge waterfall which is the source of the Tanais

_ Kemerovo:_ Forest land which holds the Kular range, home to the Huldra

_ Quaraghandy: _The border province to Makgadikigadi in the Naryn delta

_ The Winter Border: _borderlands to the various countries in the North of the kingdom


	2. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER I**

The clattering and rattling woke her from a deep, dreamless sleep. She came to slowly, dragging her way out of unconsciousness with a protesting moan. In the pre-dawn darkness she turned her head towards the bedside clock, her sleep-logged brain taking its time to resolve the shining red patterns into recognizable numbers. 4:45. Isshy lay on her legs like death, unmoving and unwilling to react to anything that might try to wake her at such an ungodly hour. Shuck and Three however greeted her awaking with a surfeit of tongues and energy, both of which she could fight off only weakly in her sleep-logged state. With a low curse she listened to the increasingly frantic noise from the plastic porch roof outside her bedroom.

"Good morning, and have a great day," she mumbled under her breath. "Begin yet another great day by getting up in the bloody middle of the night, getting drenched in cold rain and then crown everything by killing a helpless rat".

The poor rat might well have been trapped for quite a bit, she thought as she pulled her legs out from underneath her unmoving cat, slipped into her house slippers and tied a ratty robe around her waist. The clanging of the glue trap against the roof was muffled by heavy rain hitting the roof, and she wondered guiltily how long the animal had been banging away, trying to free itself from the glue trap while she'd been asleep.

If she was going to do away with rats early in the morning, she better make sure she could actually see them. With a resigned sigh Sarah grabbed her glasses from her bedside table and put them on. If she had to name one thing she really hated about her house, it was this - rat killing in the early morning.

"You tightwad bastard, someone should break YOUR bloody neck, " she swore under her breath. The landlord somehow never got around to close the hole in the wall at the edge of the roof, and there was just no way she would manage to crawl through the rafters to fix the hole from the inside. Sarah could practically see herself fall through the ceiling. No way. So the only way to keep the roof rats from having nightly orgies in the ceiling right above her bed was by hindering them from making their way into the roof in the first place by generously surrounding selfsame hole with several packets of glue traps. Isshy had proven completely useless when it came to rat-catching, uninterested in hunting anything unless she felt like it, and she obviously didn't consider roof rats interesting prey. Even shaving a bit of Isshy's fur and spreading it on the porch roof had not been enough to keep the rats at bay. It had however resulted in Isshy pointedly ignoring her for two weeks while making sure to be constantly around Sarah yet paying no attention to her. Even Rob had not managed to do this as well. At least rats were smart animals, she thought grimly. It had been several months now since the last incident, she suspected that the terrified animals left a stink of fear behind that made other rats think twice before they decided going for this hole was a good idea.

Sarah rummaged around her bedside drawer until she found the torch and the screwdriver she had stashed away there. For a moment she grinned to herself in memory. Even when Rob had still been around, it had always been her who ended up as the grim reaper to whatever animal needed to be disposed off. When that little robin had flown into their living room window? Lying on the ground, both wings broken and blood coming out of its beak, Rob had taken a look and turned a delicate shade of green. She knew there was no way he could put the bird out of its misery, as little as he had been able to deal with the mostly but not quite dead mice or birds her assorted pets would occasionally bring home for sports and entertainment. So she grimly did what needed to be done to put the animals as quickly and efficiently as possible to death. Her left hand, covered in a heavy-duty leather glove that bitter experience had proven to be bite-resistant would gently but firmly hold the animal's body so it couldn't wiggle away, while she'd gently positioned the flat side of a screwdriver to the lower edge of the skull. With one quick down-and-out movement she would break the neck at the base of the skull and the little creature would be put out of pain as quickly as humanly possible.

Her professor had been quite clear. "Feeling sorry for the animal won't help it. You need to do what needs to be done quickly and without hesitation to spare them pain and terror." She wished it was as easy for herself. Whenever she found herself playing the angel of death, she ended up depressed for days.

* * *

Well, enough dawdling, she chided herself. She opened the shutters of her window and turned on the main light in the small bedroom so she would have some more illumination on the porch from her bedroom . As she walked to the kitchen she did her best to keep the exited dogs from tripping her up. She had to open the door to the porch with her bum, needing her hands to keep her dogs inside the house. It was one of those situations when you really need more than two of them. Her behind was immediately sprayed with cold rain. Sarah grimly grabbed the step ladder and a broom leaning against the wall and dragged them out to edge of the porch. She put the screwdriver and the torch on the patio table and climbed onto the ladder. Blindly she poked along the edge of the porch roof with the broom handle until she felt it hit something solid. It squeaked. Loudly. Energetically.

"Please no," thought Sarah , "why the hell can't this rat be nearly gone and just wanting to die? How can I kill it if it is so alive?". She knew she had no choice - rats in the roof would keep her awake for good, and she needed her sleep to be able to do her job properly. Sarah swore to herself that this was it, she was going to get the landlord to fix the hole in the wall if it was the last thing she'd ever do. She was done killing healthy helpless animals that just wanted to live their life in peace. She knew what it felt like.

But tonight she had no choice. This rat was going to be the last one she'd kill. Determined she maneuvered the broom handle to the wall next to the squeaking rat - what was that sound? Splintering wood? She pulled back the broom and looked at the handle in disbelief. It had deep bite marks and the top was torn off. What the heck could bite off the end a broom handle? Was that a raccoon? No way, anything bigger than a rat would have been able to free itself, probably leaving a fair amount of hair on the glue traps, but they would have gotten away. Determinedly she moved the broom handle over her head along the edge of the porch roof and swiped the animal over the edge with a sudden movement.

Grabbing the torch and the screwdriver from the table she moved over to the rather sizeable thing that seemed to have managed to entangle itself in 4 or 5 of the glue traps at the same time. How the hell had it managed to do that? Sarah leaned down and shone the torch onto the animal, getting ready to grab it with the gloved hand, when it tumbled around and twirled to face her from behind a trap mostly obscuring its head. It lifted two grubby paws that looked awfully like hands - a small raccoon perhaps? Then the creature huddled backwards against the wall, squeaking frantically.

"Eek is good, Eek is good, lady no hit Eek, Eek no do wrong, nononono….."

The screwdriver fell out of Sarah's suddenly nerveless hand. She swayed for a moment and sat down heavily, in the middle of a puddle on the ground. "But, but…you're not a rat. You're a goblin. I've seen you before," she said weakly.  
"Christ, this just has to be a flashback. A bloody goblin. I mean, he looks like they did. Can you get a flashback if you only did acid once, 25 years ago? Wow, it's.. This cannot be a goblin, I am hallucinating. Please let it be a dream. This is a dream, right, dream, I didn't catch a goblin in a rat trap. This is just a very weird dream…" She continued in this vein for much longer than she would ever admit when she told the story to a rapt audience much later.

However, the little goblin's frantic high-pitched squeaks and wild but useless attempts to remove the glue traps coupled with the cold water she was sitting in slowly numbing her bum were just too real to be explained away as a dream. She'd never dreamt anything like this. Sarah gave herself a mental kick. Picking herself out of the puddle rather ungracefully she stayed in a squat, and facing the stuck little goblin she said, with a voice she was proud to notice was barely shaking: "What did you say your name was? Eek? Listen, little goblin, let me help you, Eek." It took several minutes of soft murmuring with countless repetitions of Eek's name until the goblin had actually calmed down enough to notice the human woman talk to him. Sarah knew better than to stop, nothing will calm a terrified animal or child better than a quiet, low and gentle voice. While the little goblin was clearly terrified and it was obvious that he would rather have run away, it was just as obvious that it was much too entangled in traps to manage an escape.

With a shrill, shaky voice trying its best to sound threatening and vicious Eek whimpered: "Bite you if you hurt Eek, bite you bad. Take sticky plates away, but bite you if you hurt me."

Sarah felt reality shiver and crack around her, and while her common sense still tried to refuse to believe in the presence of a …goblin on her porch, she felt wonder and joy bubble up deep in her heart. None of her conflicting emotions kept her from continuing to talk quietly and reassuringly to the little goblin. Never stopping her calming words in a low singsong voice, she slowly moved her hands towards the little goblin.

"Now don't be afraid, nothing to worry about, Eek, Sarah is going to take those nasty sticky tablets off you, Eek, and I'll give you something warm and soft to wear, Eek, quiet now, be quiet sweetie, you're fine now, I have you, everything is fine now. Are you hungry now, Eek, are you? Yes, I am sure you would like something nice and warm to eat," and on and on she talked as the goblin with the glue traps hanging off its body seemed to slowly calm down. Finally Sarah put her hands around the little goblin as best she could with all the traps sticking on him, and slowly and unhurriedly lifted the little body up.

"Whoa, little one," she laughed, "what the heck are you made off? Bricks? You are really heavy," and with some effort she managed to get up from the squat.  
"Damn, I think my days of squatting are over for good. Next time I might not get up again without help. Come on, sweetie, we better get in and warm up, won't we, Eek, before we catch our deaths out here in the rain."

With these words Sarah walked back to her kitchen, balancing Eek precariously between her hands. Opening the kitchen door took considerable effort as her hands were full, and she walked in on her dogs backing away and barking hysterically at the creature she held. She closed the patio door with an impatient kick of her sopping slippers, pushed the yipping Three and Shuck out of the way and walked quickly to the sink, slowly lowering the miserable-looking goblin into the white porcelain bowl.

"Listen, Eek, I need to run water over you to get those traps off your body", she cooed softly to the goblin as she as she pulled out the kitchen faucet and ran water over her hand in the far corner of the sink to gauge the temperature. "Don't worry, sweetie, I'll use warm water, it will be quite pleasant", and while Eek was whinging on in a low growl that tried to sound threatening, she gently began to rinse his little body with a bubbly stream of warm water, soaking the sticky glue on the traps and dissolving it enough so she could slowly loosen and remove the traps that stuck to his little body. All the while her dogs were pressing their shaking bodies close to her legs and were growling deep in their throats as they lifted their noses as close to the sink as they could.

To her surprise Eek completely ignored the growl that filled the air. He did not seem to consider the dogs a threat. It took a good while until she had managed to work all rat five traps off him and remove his grimy garments. Eek had quickly stopped his bellyaching and got right into the spirit of water games, squeaking gleefully and wiggling around in her wash basin like a slippery fish, all giggles and childish delight. By the time she had thoroughly scrubbed his scrawny little body with dish soap, he had managed to drench her in increasingly less dirty water and had even been able to swallow a mouthful of the citrus-smelling dish liquid while she was busy getting the last sticky residue off his legs. Not only did he not puke as she'd been half afraid, but he kept wanting to get his hands on more of the soap and ended up happily burping bubbles.

Finally Sarah got some kitchen towels, lifted Eek out of the sink and started toweling him rigorously. A few towels later he stuck his head out of from between her hands and grinned at her wolfishly. "Eek hungry now," he stated, and rumbling from his stomach confirmed his words.

"Okay, Eek, wait here just a moment and I'll get you something to wear, and then I think we both deserve some proper breakfast." As Sarah turned to leave the kitchen she realized that leaving a small goblin alone with two utterly hysterical dogs might not be a smart idea. Yet to her surprise her dogs stuck to her legs like glue and seemed only too happy to join her when she walked out of the kitchen.

* * *

Sarah came back with a boy's t-shirt in her hands just in time to see Eek taking a healthy swig of dishwashing liquid out of the bottle on the sink. She grinned as she looked at him in his full glory. Lord, but goblins were ugly. While Eek was as big as a good sized raccoon, you couldn't in good conscience say he was as good-looking. For all his attempts at looking dangerous, Eek looked unassuming - it just was difficult to look vicious when his squashed-up face resembled nothing as much as the offspring of a goat and a cow, despite a couple of sharp little teeth poking out of his serious overbite. The bulging eyes were a muddy brown, and the mottled moss-colored skin looked as if something was growing on it. After having scrubbed Eek's skin quite thoroughly, Sarah was convinced that something actually was, which explained the tube of antibiotic ointment she brought with her. The miserable tufts of ragged hair that were sprouting all over its scrawny body without ever managing to look like a fur did not help his appearance. Eek looked like he was suffering from a serious case of mange. Despite his arguably unthreatening appearance both Shuck and Three seemed to be terrified of him, pressing their bodies against her until could feel their shaking flanks. They'd given up growling in favor of whimpering. It would seem that there was more to Eek that met the eye.

With a laugh Sarah walked up to the counter, closely followed by her dogs who obviously felt that their mistress needed protection, however terrible the enemy, and they were not going to fail in their job. She couldn't help wondering how you could tell a goblin's gender - despite of having seen the family jewels of just about any animal a vet might encounter she was damned if she could tell with Eek. And she certainly could not imagine that anyone would actually go and try to neuter a goblin. It just seemed a dangerous idea. At least his nose was shiny and wet, if he were a dog that would be a good sign. She opened the tube of ointment she had brought along and started to rub generous amounts on all suspicious looking parts of his skin. She figured she'd need the whole tube.

"Noo, Eek, don't eat it, it's to make your skin feel good. Now wait, I'll be done in a moment, and then we will eat. Come on, put on the shirt and I'll get you some food." She held out the t-shirt to him, which he snatched out of her hands with considerable speed. He grinned dementedly as he dragged the shirt over his head. It was much to big and ended well under his knees, but surprisingly the short sleeves did not extend over his elbows. It made sense since Eek's knuckles practically dragged on the ground. Interestingly enough Eek looked better in the t-shirt than Toby ever had. Which might have something to do with the fact that the less you saw of Eek, the better he looked, which had never been true for Toby.

"Food, Eek want food. Food now. Please?", Eek's attempts at a threatening posture quickly dissolved into begging. As Sarah started to cook a full breakfast with all the trimmings, the little goblin sat contentedly on the counter next to the stove grabbing bits out of the pans whenever she wasn't looking. After a series of increasingly noticeable whacks with the spoon he made sure to keep his hands to himself when she was watching. Sarah felt joy bubble up in her. It had been much too long since she last had breakfast with anyone. While most people might assume that a goblin staying for breakfast was a very poor second choice, she found that she strongly preferred Eek to just about anyone she had breakfast with since she had moved away from home. And that included her husband. Sarah sighed. Not a thought she wanted to dwell on this wonderful morning, especially since it hadn't been Rob's fault. But it was a wonderful morning, rain and all. Sarah bit her lip. She was not going to ruin the glow that came from finally getting proof that she wasn't crazy. Not that it bothered her very much any more - after 30 years, who cared but her? But still, knowing that it hadn't just been a mad dream was gratifying. Deep in her mind Sarah was even proud of herself - who would have believed that she actually ever was the kind of girl to fight her way through dangers untold and hardships unnumbered - and that she won?

The fire-alarm going off interrupted her budding reverie. A tuft of hair on Eek's arm had come too close to the gas flame as he sneaked his hand into the pan and the patch of fur seemed to spontaneously combust, producing large amounts of vile smoke. Eek hopped around from one leg to the other and kept hitting himself with his arms, screaming loudly but strangely not sounding in pain. Sarah finally grabbed and held him, covering his bony little body with a towel to suffocate any flames and then needed a few minutes to completely assure herself that he wasn't badly hurt. She checked several times to find the damage, but try as she may she could not find any burns, only a singed looking spot with some frizzled hair on his arm. It seemed goblins were fireproof, or at least Eek was.

By the time she had calmed down the bacon hat shriveled to a dark crisp, the eggs were dry and the toast was burned. Luckily Eek's taste buds were as resilient as the rest of him. While Sarah had a cup of coffee and a piece of toast with marmalade, he managed to stuff food into his mouth without missing a beat and obviously considered it a bit of luck that he didn't have to share any of it with his hostess. Sarah looked at him with a smile. It was astounding how much the goblin reminded her of Toby just then, Toby when he had been five or six. Obviously not in looks, but Eek exhibited the same single-mindedness and concentration that Toby had shown when he had really been focusing.

God, she missed him still, after all those years. It was a pain that never went away completely, a pain that had not grown gentler, as the loss of her dad and Karen had. Sarah supposed this was normal. She had had many years with her parents and countless loving memories, and there had been enough time to come to terms with their deaths.  
"Parents die," she thought, "and if they are lucky they die before their children. Only, we never knew what had happened to Toby. How could we let go of him not knowing what had happened?" She recalled a discussion she'd had with Karen a few years after Toby had disappeared. Now, she'd just had started her first job in the animal clinic in town, so how old had she been? 25 or 26? God, and still so sure of herself, not only knowing everything, but knowing it better as well. She didn't know how Karen had ever put up with her. She recalled her loud assertion that it was good that Toby had just vanished. This did leave the possibility that he lived somewhere, he might have a happy life, and if they were lucky they might actually find him again. Now Karen, she just wanted his body to bury. Sarah winced at the memory of her own surety and arrogance, how she had railed and harangued Karen, calling her defeatist and loudly declaring her attitude to be better. Karen had smiled in her tears and hugged her, saying she was happy she at least still had her daughter. It had been an effective way of stopping the painful conversation before she said something she might have truly regretted.

It had taken Sarah years to understand why her stepmother just wanted Toby's body to bury. For the young, the world is teeming with possibilities. They might be anything, go anywhere, achieve anything. Oh, there may be risks, but really, the young are immortal. Only other people die. Bad things only happen to other people. For the young, the future holds only possibilities, not risks. As the years passed and life happened, Sarah learned that the possibilities are limited and that the risks are all too real, but in her twenties she had been too inexperienced to see. When you are 25 it is a fine thing to proclaim that your little brother is better off lost than dead. When you are 45 it is impossible to even imagine any scenario that could make you wish for your missing nine year old brother to have lived for long after he vanished. So you wish for a body to know that he is not suffering, a body that will tell you he is at peace. A body to stop the nightmares.

Wrapped up in her thoughts Sarah never noticed that Eek had finished eating and looked at her, head held aslant. The next thing she knew was Shuck and Three barking like crazy under the table, trying to force their way on her lap as Eek sat on the table before her and touched his hand to her cheek.

"Water run down your face", he said with huge eyes. "Is sick?".

With a start she stared at him and said: "No sweetie, I am fine, don't worry," smiling as she pushed away the old familiar pain. Despite the hard, calloused skin on his fingers his touch felt soft. Something felt wrong, though. How many bloody fingers did he have? Sarah grabbed his hands disbelievingly and stared. Yep, four fingers.  
"How many toes do you have, Eek?", she asked excitedly. Eek was not one to hold back on his achievements, even if he had no active part in them. In a second he was on his back, pushing his feet toward her face. She was suddenly glad that she had personally overseen his clean-up. Sarah suspected that generally having a goblin's feet shoved into your face was a less than pleasant experience. These thoughts vanished rather quickly when she took in his feet. One of them had three toes, with long, curved claws, rather like a sloth. Or perhaps a velociraptor. She figured that Eek wasn't exactly a sprinter - with a foot like that he'd never be able to walk normally and much less run. On the other hand, if this was a velociraptor foot, why would he ever need to run? Suddenly her dogs' fear made more sense. Shuck might be as dumb as the day was long, but there was nothing wrong with his sense of self-preservation. Eek's other foot however made up for the lack of toes by having eight of them, all of them looking fully functional and the innermost one looking very much like a traditional big toe, perfect for walking. She couldn't wait to see him walk. A truly strange gait to add to his general air of handsomeness.

At this point however her overwrought dogs needed her full attention to convince them she wasn't in immediate danger. She petted their heads and murmured quietly to them until they calmed down enough to stop trying to climb on top of her. "My dogs are afraid of you, Eek", she grinned at the little goblin who was stuffing her leftover toast into his mouth. "They think you will hurt me, and them." For a moment she thought this was way over the goblin's capacity to understand, but he surprised her.

"Dog is food," he grinned with a smile that did not sit well on his suddenly uncertain peaceful herbivore face barely marred by his fangs. "But Eek like bacon better. No hurt you, no hurt dogs. Eek hungry?", he asked hopefully.

"That is good Eek. Yes, if Eek is nice to the dogs, I will be nice to Eek. Listen, Eek, my name is Sarah, " she said to the little goblin. "Have you ever had hot chocolate? It's the best thing ever. If you promise to never hurt any of my animals, Sarah will make you hot chocolate whenever you visit me, I promise."

"Eek is good, Eek like Sarra, Eek have hot chocolate now, promise not eat dogs."

Sarah wasn't sure how far she could trust his promises, but he seemed nicely amenable to bribery, so she decided to make her goodwill worth Eek's while.

As she stood at the stove boiling milk with cocoa powder and sugar to make hot chocolate Sarah was busy making plans for the future. Her bristling dogs' backs were pressed against the back of her knees as they were growling at the goblin on the kitchen table who was completely ignoring their presence. Eek was much too busy to figure out what the various containers on the table held. He had already gagged on the salt and gone into a sneezing fit from the pepper, but he seemed to like he mustard. How could she get the little goblin to make peace with her zoo? Sarah wasn't worried about Isshy. The only problem with Isshy was that she might take a dislike to the goblin, - and nothing Isshy disliked tended to stay around long. But Sarah figured that doping her cat up with catnip whenever the goblin was around should go a long way to pacify her. Isshy was nothing if not amenable to bribery.

Sarah suspected that Isshy had this trait in common with Eek. The goblin and the cat were of about the same size, but that was were all similarities ended. Isshy was a very impressive cat of imposing bulk that was muscle only, although Sarah had no idea how that was possible considering the amount of food the cat consumed every day. Sarah had more than once woken from a nightmare of being paralyzed only to find Isshy asleep on her legs. She considered herself lucky that Isshy had never tried to sleep on her chest. She wasn't sure that she'd have woken again.

Isshy's orange marled fur was thick and silky, her eyes a smoky grey, her teeth and claws sharp, her reflexes fast, her temper short and her fury legendary in the neighborhood. All in all Eek was no match for her, even if he were far more impressive than he looked. Sarah had seen Isshy fight a bulldog, and win paws down. Her dogs submitted to Isshy's whims without any protest, having long learned that it was better to let her have her ways immediately rather than after having been beaten up. Sarah pursed her lips in thought. Perhaps if she could clean up Eek whenever he came and make sure he wore something that smelled of her?  
"You might be a bit premature here, my girl," she admonished herself. "Just because you'd like him to come back doesn't mean he will. Eek is a lot wilder than anything you ever had - why would he want to come back?" However, as far as Sarah was concerned bribery should work well on Eek - he might be feral, but he was also a greedy little thing and seemed to want, want, want all the time. She grinned. She was going to start her very own campaign of goblin domestication. The poor thing didn't stand a chance.

"Like chocolate, Sarra," Eek declared with a loud burp. He looked as if he had swallowed a bowling ball, his belly sticking out from his bony frame. "More?", he asked hopefully.

"Forget it, buster. Any more and you'll puke. However, I think a charming goblin like you should have some pants to go with his T-Shirt, what do you say? Do you want some pants?" Eek's eye lit up - getting things seemed to be his favorite pastime. Sarah couldn't tell whether he was greedy or just never had gotten much, but she didn't care. The little goblin had regaled her with stories about his heroic fights with trolls and falin, and while none of it was believable, all of it was vastly entertaining. If you listened to his stories with completely suspended disbelief, it was just possible that he might have survived a fight with a not-too-big troll since those beasts were obviously not blessed with much brains. However, fighting a demon was a different story. Sarah had no idea why a falin would bother with a goblin in the first place, but if it did it'd probably make breakfast of Eek in a second. It had been difficult to follow his strange way of talking at the beginning, but his expressions and imagery had their own wild beauty that caught her imagination. Sarah was determined to make him come back, she hadn't enjoyed herself so much for a long time. As she got up from the kitchen table, Eek jumped up on her shoulder with surprising agility. Again she wondered how such a small creature could possibly weigh so much. The laws of nature obviously didn't feel they applied to goblins. Three and Shuck seemed to have resigned themselves to Eek's presence, while still pushing themselves closely to their mistress they had stopped shaking and whimpering. It might have helped that she had fed them a double portion dog kibbles and then some. Sarah smiled. Moving through the narrow door frame to her small office with two dogs determined not to move an inch away from her made walking difficult, but if it kept them quiet and calmed their fears, she was happy to oblige.

On the desk in her office stood the box she had taken the t-shirt out from. The box had been closed now for over fifteen years, but it had been moved with a few other cherished belongings for five moves. And now, well, it seemed fitting to give Eek some of Toby's old clothes. She just knew her little brother would have gotten a kick out off seeing a goblin wear his clothes. Sarah began to root through the box. She knew his favorite shorts were in there somewhere. "Oooh here: Heavens, they are even worse than I remember. How could Karen ever buy this? Ninja teenage mutant turtle or something. Sheesh, and people complain about the kids of today." Sarah turned to the wide eyed goblin sitting on the desk.  
"You'll love this, Eek." Sarah was right, of course. The mindset of a goblin and a young child are astoundingly similar - both are wild creatures mostly untouched by conscience or civilization and are acting predominantly on impulse and emotion. This produces startlingly similar mayhem as any adult who has ever found himself trying to control a crowd of excited four year olds can testify to. The shorts were full length pants for Eek, and it would have taken three of him to fill out the waist band, but a Mickey Mouse belt somewhere in the box took care of that. Eek was ecstatic, which set the dogs off again. Sarah decided it was time to call it a day. "Eek, Sarah needs to go to work now, sweetie." Eek's face fell. "I need to earn money to buy you more chocolate." As she'd hoped, this cheered the little goblin up to no end.

"Eek visit Sarra again? Sarra give Eek food," he stated confidently. Sarah ginned. Her plan worked.


	3. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER II**

The glittering crowd in the hall did the Underground proud. The tall, willowy fae showed off their unearthly beauty with daring, dazzling clothes that bespoke refinement as well as the desire to impress and influence. Their conversations in light, crystalline voices wove a silvery web of music over the assembly. Yet this was the goblin kingdom, not one of the fae courts, so mingling with the fae courtiers were huldra from the forests at the edge of the kingdom, powerful Oaklords in their living armor next to lined, squat dwarf warriors with their sweet-faced ladies, powerfully build with eyes that could see in the dark. A small pixie boy played with a Nunnehi girl already promising to be a great beauty, the children busy shaping fantastical colors in they air between their hands. In a quiet corner in a spirited conversation an Odei clothed in storm and bits of colorful silk with a lady of the Aos Sidhe, her cat-eyes wide and her claws teasingly catching at the bits of silk that twirled enticingly around his beautiful body, both of them engrossed in a flirtation that would have been be considered a disgrace at any other court. Even the sea-deep beauty of the delegation from Llyr did not stand out in Jareth's dazzling court. _**need want hunger**_** - GIVE ME WHAT I HAVE WAITED FOR COUNTLESS GREAT YEARS**_. _The citizenry of the goblin kingdom was laughing, talking and courting with no regard to race and kind, an abomination at the other courts of the underground, whether fae, dwarf or abarimon. The races of the underground held to their beliefs of the superiority of their respective races, even though four of the five soul-bound couples in the underground were from different kinds. The many races mingling on equal footing in the Goblin King's great hall told clearly that the kingdom was not an ordinary one and that no creature was valued higher than another in the Labyrinth. Well, almost.

"I don't know how you manage to keep those pesky goblins away from your receptions," grumbled Porr, the goblin king's chancellor. "When I tell them to do something they only ignore me. They ignore everyone. Hell, I've seen them ignore YOU."

"Ah, but look at it from a goblin's perspective, Porr. This is boring for them. No fights, no drinking, no songs, no chickens. I make sure there is a party going on somewhere far else that has everything their little hearts desire when I wish to remain undisturbed. And please, do not take this the wrong way, my dear Porr, but if I were a goblin I'd ignore you too. You lack, how should I phrase this? ah yes: carry-through. I don't care if my goblins obey my every word. It is enough that they obey when it matters, which they do. They know what happens if they annoy me, and not one has ever done so twice." Jareth gave his dwarf chancellor an amused glance. "Although it usually takes a long time before I see the miscreant again, anyway - they know better than to come to the castle while they still reek of the Bog."

Porr gave a barking laugh - truth be told, Jareth was the only one whom the goblins listened to at all. At least most of the time. And they loved him. Never angry at punishments however harsh, never holding a grudge, all they wanted was to be close to him. Porr wasn't sure if that kind of love was really a good thing for Jareth, the man was too conceited as it was. **GIVE ME WHAT I ASK FOR I NEED MY QUEEN** Being considered the crown of creation and the sun, the moon, a good ale and a better fight all rolled in one by one's subject would tempt a saint. Which Jareth most certainly was not. The chancellor gave his king a dark glare. It was so unfair. Porr was considered a very handsome man among his kind, but even the dwarf ladies would throw smoldering glances towards the goblin king and never even saw the king's chancellor when the king himself happened to be around. Porr gave his king an unobtrusive once-over. Even in a crowd as dazzlingly beautiful and spirited as this one Jareth stood out. He had the beauty and the magic that was the birthright of the fae, yet there was a wildness to his beauty that was alien to his kind, unbound by rules and not hemmed in by conventions or -heavens forbid- conventional manners. His mismatched eyes were laughing and his hair stood on end with wild magic.

Every female in the room was very aware of the king's presence, the chancellor thought somewhat sourly. Porr was torn out of his musing by Jareth's gloved hand touching his face. "And many of the males as well, my dear Porr, as I am sure you know," he heard Jareth's smug voice in his ear.

With a crooked grin the chancellor looked up at his friend. "But those poor men don't stand a chance of getting anywhere. The women, however…."

"Do not worry yourself, my friend, you know quite well that I would never take any liberties with the Lady Sindri," purred Jareth with a entirely too innocent smile. While Porr was still fumbling for words, the goblin king moved gracefully to the head of the assembly, Etain closely by his foot as always, **I WAITED SO LONG AND PATIENT** and began his speech of welcome to the delegation from the sea.

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/

* * *

But really, today's reception was mind-numbingly boring. Short of the labyrinth pushing into his mind, of course, but he had a lot of practice ignoring those intrusions. He had harbored no illusions that an official reception would be excitement-filled, but had it been too much to hope that the delegation of Llyr might be more, ah, captivating than the usual official visitors? Now, he could not complain about the ambassador's charms, the lady Morveren was quite fetching with her green hair and eyes and a most seductive body displayed to its best advantage in a dress much too wet to leave much to the observer's imagination - the magic that gave her legs to walk on dry land still owed to the sea. But the Maighdean-mhara were renowned for their sweet tongue and their gentle persuasion that would wear down any resistance, just as the endless sea would eventually wear down any obstacle in its path. After two and a half hours of listening to endless declarations of friendship and goodwill however Jareth was convinced that the stories about the merpeople's gift of the gab were poppycock. He had heard it all before many a times, but he had held out a glimmer hope that of all creatures of the Underground the Maighdean-mhara could make the meaningless patter that was the essence of diplomatic conversation sound honest, heartfelt and true. Since they could not, it could not be done.

There might be other benefits to this official visit, however. He smiled predatorily at the lady Morveren, whose dancing eyes and twitching lips gave him reason to believe that at least some of the other gifts the children of Llyr were whispered to possess might be true. He had plans to find out as soon as he could get the lady alone **COUNTLESS YEARS AND COUNTLESS LOVERS AND YET YOU GAVE ME NO QUEEN I NEED MY QUEEN YOU ARE MINE I AM YOURS WE NEED OUR QUEEN**

With boneless grace he leaned into the corner of his throne and surveyed the scene in the reception room with cool amused eyes while he idly stroked his fingers over Etain's silky head. As was always the case when foreign dignitaries were visiting, his goblin sentries stood motionless around the throne, looking to all the world like statues carved out of granite by a sculptor with only the dimmest idea of proportion and none at all of beauty and grace. His eyes skimmed with approval over the twenty goblins that made up his personal guard. They looked vicious, brutal, efficient and strong, and he knew them to be much worse than they looked. They were also fast, smart and loyal to the death. The Labyrinth was taking no risk in protecting its king, and considering the neigh-constant warfare in the Underground he was in complete agreement. **PROTECT MY CHOSEN GIVE ME A QUEEN FEED MY SOUL **The attempts on his life had been many, and but for his guards he might not have survived them all. Not that the Maighdean-mhara were enemies - the children of Llyr took no part in the endless cycle of rivalry and power games that so many of their land-bound brethren had given their lives over to. They ruled the waters of the earth and were the only fae other than Jareth himself that could cross over to the human world. This alone presented them with enough problems to not be interested in any more difficulties with their immortal brethren.

Jareth was pleased as his eyes glanced over the Maighdean-mhara delegation. Lady Morveren and Lord Ningyo were close kin of the Sao Llyr, and he knew several other members of the group to be high-ranking members of the court of Llyr. He had always been on excellent terms with the Sao Llyr, and it would seem that the terms might become even better. Centuries of experience had taught him patience. Diplomatic negotiations tended to be most successfully mediated under the guise of careless entertainment, and if there was one thing the goblin king had an endless supply of, it was careless entertainment. His glance lingered on lady Morveren's supple form. He was planning to enjoy the merpeople's visit.

"I was beginning to fear that the speeches were never going to end," with a laugh in her voice the lady Morveren leaned closer to Jareth. "Father always said that the first qualification for an ambassador is a bladder extending all the way into the legs and the ability to look engrossed while being asleep on one's feet". The Llyr ambassador's hand rested lightly on the goblin king's arm as they were leaving the great hall after the reception. "Would you believe that I thought he was joking?"

"U Llyr always was an excellent teacher, my lady," Jareth responded teasingly. "I am sure I would have been impressed by your performance had I been awake to notice it." The laughter in Morveren's voice had the quality of a bubbling well, a merry, watery sound. "I must confess, though, I had hoped to find myself swept away by the legendary persuasiveness that is the birthright of the Maighdean-mhara, yet all I heard was the expected professions of never-ending friendship and trust, " Jareth murmured into Morveren's ear. "But I do remember U Llyr telling me that you are a singer of some renown, my lady? I may be willing to forgive you for hours of boredom for the price of just one single song," his voice drawled meltingly as he looked at her with a seductive smile.

"Ah, but my lord, why the hurry? We have a saying in the seas - there is a time to speak and a time to be silent - and let me add, a time to sing and dance and celebrate as well. Although," and here Morveren's face darkened, "I have no idea how you land creatures can dance with these legs of yours. Now, for true grace you need a tail to dance in water."

**LOVELY SMART AND FUNNY A GOOD GOBLIN QUEEN SHE MAKE FOR ME **with practiced ease Jareth kept bantering with Morveren while he exasperatedly tried to squelch the Labyrinth meddling in his life. "We have been through this too many times. I will not let you rule my life. I won't get a queen just because you want me to." **longing hunger need - YOU ARE NOT ENOUGH YOU ARE MINE I AM YOURS WE NEED OUR QUEEN I NEED DIFFERENT WE MUST GROW**_. _"My power and my strength are yours, now and forever. Take my life if you need to but I will not have you run it. I do not need a queen, you will have to do with me alone." Smiling, Jareth turned to Morveren to tell her a morsel of suggestive history of the goblin kingdom that made her laugh. With a supreme effort of will the goblin king pushed the presence of the labyrinth out of his conscious mind but the desperate need and hunger kept gnawing in the back of his consciousness, as much part of him as his heartbeat, and he could no more banish it than he could have stopped his breathing. Bound forever to the labyrinth his being was twined to its magical presence all of his days, and it was only days like this one that he felt a touch of resentment.

* * *

/

* * *

Weeks filled with leisurely distractions, balls, and conversations had passed and an understanding had grown. The Maighdean-mhara lacked the haughty pride that was a big part of the other races' perception of themselves and thus were able to come to a deeper understanding of the denizens of the goblin kingdom than any of the other races had ever been able to. The goblin kingdom was home to the outcasts and misfits of the magical races of the underground, those who could not prosper in the restricted and sometimes stifling atmosphere of their places of birth. Some had taken to wandering the underground as their discontent had overwhelmed them in their long lives, some had been forced out from their home or people because they had committed the unforgivable crime of loving a lesser creature, and others still found themselves lured away by vivid dreams and a bone-deep longing that would not let them rest. At some point, all these creatures found themselves drawn to the goblin kingdom, paying their respects to the king in the castle in the heart of the labyrinth, and they found belonging in a place that most of them had been taught to think of with disdain, contempt and fear. The Labyrinth and its king rejoiced in free spirits that had broken the chains of convention and hungered for freedom, with all of its risks and costs.

The spirit of the wild sea was alive in the Maighdean-mhara and they found a kinship with the people of the labyrinth. Jareth thought with a smile that there was the explanation why there were but two creatures of the sea at his court, a selkie couple who was happily working water-magic at the Haliakmon winding its way through the labyrinth. The sea rejoiced in variety and otherness as much as the Labyrinth did, so there was no reason to leave for its children unless they just were curious to see more of the world. And Roane and Aithne were living their lives in two homes, on the river that flowed to the sea, still tied to the kingdom of Sao Llyr as well as on the river's bank where the labyrinth welcomed their presence within its borders. News had reached the king that more seals had been seen playing in the Haliakmon. He hoped that more selkies would come to live in the labyrinth, their joyful spirit had much entertained the Labyrinth.

But as pleasant as finding a kindred spirit in another people might have been, it also created its own set of problems. What a wily old fish U Llyr was, Jareth thought with grim amusement. His people had taken to the children of Llyr as much as the Maighdean-mhara had taken to them, and he had to admit that he was no exception. The lady Morveren was a most enjoyable companion outside his chambers as much as in, an intelligent woman full of grace and laughter that seemed to enjoy his presence and accepted well his absences. The rumors of the Maighdean-mhara's hidden talents had barely hinted at the reality of it, and Jareth found himself quite captivated by the Lady Morveren's abilities. Long conversations with Lord Ningyo over a game of chess or a spirited hunt of unicorns with Etain doing her best to ruin the chase had made him appreciate the humor and gentleness of spirit the merpeople possessed. Even the young unicorn they had managed to capture against the odds had gracefully touched Ningyo's hand in admission of his victory before bounding off into the forest to re-join the serenity.

* * *

Therein lay the rub. He had been king too long to not understand the risks of friendship and alliance to another power. The power structures of the underground were treacherous and ever-shifting, and internecine warfare between the kingdoms had been ongoing since time began. Striving for supremacy gave the most ambitious members of the fae in the underground their only meaning in life. All peoples of the underground were extremely long-lived, and some of them, like the fae, the abarimon, the odei and others would never age to die. The fae lived their lives content in the knowledge of near-immortality and choose to ignore the fact that they could and often enough did die, by accident but often by violence. All fae were born with the native magic that was their birthright, and in some it burnt strong and bright, powerful enough to vanquish their foes if called upon. Many fae kingdoms of the underground were ruled by those who had been able to come into power and hold it by the strength of their magic and their ability to make alliances that kept any contenders at bay, so more often than not the power in a kingdom was held by a ruler whose clan benefited from the reign and wholeheartedly gave their magic in backing, not necessarily the best ruler a kingdom might have had.

Even though the fae bred slow, unable already to make up the number of their own lost to death, there were always many ambitious enough to try to take power of a kingdom by whatever means necessary. Alliances between kingdoms were common, held true for a pre-determined time by powerful blood magic, but rare were alliances held in trust without limitations.

* * *

The goblin kingdom held trust only with two other demesnes in the underground. One was the kingdom of Danu, where the Ard Ri, the high king Cethur Mc Greine ruled with his queen Eriu in Falias, Gorias, Murias and Findias. Whatever his distrust in fae honesty, Jareth would not forsake his confidence and love for his parents.

Annwyn was the other demesne the goblin kingdom was aligned with. When Jareth had traveled the underground, long before he had been chosen by the Labyrinth, he had unexpectedly made friends with Arrawn of Annwyn, a powerful lord in his kingdom already. They had found themselves in a desperate struggle for survival, and Jareth would have lost his life had not Arrawn intervened at a terrible risk to himself. Jareth stayed in Annwyn at Arrawn's side for many years, learning much of statecraft that stood him in good steed when he found himself in need of such knowledge after having been chosen as the goblin king by the labyrinth. When he'd left, Arrawn had presented him with one of the legendary Cwn Annwyn, Etain of the White Wind, as a token of his unerring friendship. Etain had been his faithful companion since that day, sleeping in front of the fireplace or, whenever she could sneak up to it, on the foot of his bed. His faith in Arrawn was absolute, and he had offered the full trust of an unlimited alliance to Annwyn once he was king, a trust accepted and fully offered in return. But for these two alliances Jareth had carefully steered the goblin kingdom clear of any other obligations, having learned the hard way that while fae extended the utmost care in protecting fae life, including that of erstwhile enemies, they had no such compunction when it came to the lives of what they deemed lesser creatures. The goblin king had no desire to sacrifice the lives of his goblins, trolls and other "worthless" subjects to the power machinations of the fae.

The fae needed the goblin kingdom even while they despised and feared it - they paid for near-immortality with having but few children, too few to keep their kind alive. The goblin king was the only fae who could answer the summons of humans and cross over to their world , and without him the fae might have dwindled away into memory and myth, as had seemed possible before Jareth had taken kingship over the goblin kingdom. When the last goblin king and the goblin queen had been murdered by a fae lordling who had though to take over the kingdom, a terrible cataclysm had convulsed the underground, striking down all creatures with magic and rendering them unconscious for days. The goblin kingdom seemed to vanish, and following the roads that used to lead to the labyrinth would lead the traveler to another kingdom. For weeks the screams of the hapless fae assassin echoed through the air in the underground. The end of the screams had not brought the labyrinth back. For many years none ever saw a goblin, and the creatures of the labyrinth seemed to have vanished forever. It was generally assumed among the fae that the goblin king and the goblin queen had wrought a spell that had gone terribly wrong after their death. So now no more unwanted and wished away human children were given to barren fae parents to love and raise as their own, turning into fae as was possible if a human child came to live in the underground before it reached adulthood. The goblin king and the goblin queen had ever been the safeguards of fae survival, and with their death the future looked desperate indeed.

Then one day the underground found the goblin kingdom back were it always had been, impossibly much bigger than before and subtly changed to the eye, yet seemingly the same. Within the shortest possible time all fae demesnes of the underground had sent out delegations to the city in the heart of the labyrinth to learn what they could. They were greeted coldly if politely by the new goblin king, Jareth son of the Ard Ri. Jareth had always had exceptionally strong magic, so it was widely thought that this was how he had been able to find the labyrinth and take its kingship. To the fae's astonishment and disdain the new goblin king did not favor fae over other magical kinds at his court and was even protective of his goblins, trolls, hags and assorted other horrors the labyrinth was home to. Yet desperate for the children to ensure their future, for a long while they held their peace. Much later, when the first forays into the goblin kingdom began and the first intrigues were spun by those who envisaged themselves as much superior rulers for the labyrinth, they found Jareth a much more formidable opponent than they had expected, repelling the intruders and foiling any plans for his assassination again and again. They were sure that age and experience had deepened Jareth's strength. But what no one knew is that the labyrinth had chosen his king, and had given him certain powers.

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/

* * *

The labyrinth was a living, sentient magical creature of immense power. It had been desperately lonely for unending years when it had first, impelled by curiosity, bonded with wandering fae whose mind had drawn it close, rather by accident if truth be told. Thus the first goblin king came to be, ruler and servant of a living kingdom of wild magic, his mind bound inextricably to the labyrinth, giving over his freedom for the deepest love, forever entwined with the creature who had unwittingly ensnared him. The labyrinth was the source of the goblin king's power, giving all its magic freely into the hands of its chosen, and the goblin king gave his life, his dreams and his freedom over to the labyrinth's safekeeping - never again would he be able to leave, never again be alone in his mind, never again be free of the responsibility of taking care of all the labyrinth was and all its creatures. Thus it was ever after in the binding of the Labyrinth to his chosen. When the king choose his queen, the labyrinth bonded to her as well, and as the king's and the queen's mind joined through the labyrinth they unexpectedly found themselves soul-bound to each other. Through uncountable millennia this was how the labyrinth developed, the sometimes death of a king or a queen tearing its soul, yet each new king or queen added to the labyrinth. All their dreams and nightmares, their hopes and fears, their longings and despair gave shape to new aspects to the labyrinth, and the innate power of the bond between the labyrinth and its chosen fed the wild magic at its core. After the murder of the last soul-bound goblin king and his goblin queen the pain and terror of the sudden loss had thrown the labyrinth into paroxysms of anguish and made it close itself off the underground, where the murderer of his beloved had come from. Yet as is invariably the case, the pain of the loss of his chosen dulled over time, and the labyrinth's loneliness grew, and again it send out tendrils of its mind in search for another companion, another mind worthy to be chosen, needing love and companionship as much as the labyrinth did itself. And after many years of searching without ever finding a being it could love, no mind that it wanted to bind itself to, the labyrinth chanced upon Jareth. Their binding had proven to be the most powerful yet, Jareth's mind deeper, more powerful and far more devious than that of past goblin kings. Yet also in him the labyrinth found the capacity for unconditional love and devotion and the willingness for sacrifice for all he believed in. Their merging had grown the goblin kingdom considerably and made it a far more spectacular as well as dangerous place.


	4. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER III**

Wha...? Was that the door? No, no, oh yes, the phone. What time was it? 2:45. With a sudden start Sarah woke up completely. Calls in the wee hours of the morning spelled one thing only: disaster. She fumbled for the telephone somewhere in her shirt pocket on the floor and pushed the connect button. "Sarah Williams," she said, already out of bed and stumbling into her clothes strewn all over the floor. Three minutes later she sped out of her driveway and raced through the deserted streets, hoping to make it to the zoo without running over a policeman.

Sarah lost it when she saw the screaming mare. "I know you can't stand me, though believe me, Harper, that's nothing compared to what I think about you," she hissed into the zoo vet's pinched face, "but I would have thought even a lobotomized ass like you would feel some compassion for a creature in pain, or at least the stirring of some self-preservation. That horse has been in labor for nearly two hours, and they say her water broke over half hour ago. You have just killed a priceless foal because you don't like me. That will be coming back to bit you in the ass, I'll make sure of it. I will not let you hurt another animal. Ever. Again."  
As she pushed the flustered vet out of her way, none too gently, she was already talking in a soft, hypnotic voice to the young Przewalski's mare lying on her side in the straw and moved her strong hands inquiringly over the birthing animal's extended belly.  
"What the hell is this party in here anyway? Haven't you idiots heard that a birthing mare should be left alone? Now get this prick out of here and call Nancy in to help, right now," she barked over her shoulder at one of the distraught animal keepers crowding around. "And I want all of you out of here but for John." The exhausted mare went through another strong labor pain but seemed to lean into the soothing touch of the woman, its dun coat black with sweat. "Are you all sodding deaf? Out! I said. Now."

John told Sarah under his breath that the mare had violently fought off anyone who had tried to help her. The old animal keeper had been working in the zoo since Sarah had taken her first internship here, doing excellent work and pissing off a good many people in the process. He had come to admire and like her, but then he cared as little about bedside manners as the animals Sarah was looking after.

Without slowing her careful examination of the horse she quizzed the him about the specifics of the young horse's difficult delivery, when she suddenly drew in her breath sharply. "The foal is all turned, not even a breech, but really twisted in there. How the hell could even an idiot like Harper have missed that? And why isn't Cooper from the program here? I thought they found that the Przewalski's horses suffered from MRLS, that woman should be here for the birthing." The door opened and a young woman ran in.

"Nancy, I need you and John to help me with the birth. What is the little mare's name? Rumika? Whoever names those poor things should be shot," Sarah grumbled under her breath as she tore off her blouse at the sink in the corner of the animal birthing room and began to scrub her hands. She then proceeded to drench her arms in disinfectant, soaking her cotton undershirt in the process.  
"John, I need you to hold her head down - she cannot get up under any circumstances, I need to try to turn the foal, and if she tries to move she'll tear my arm off."

As the animal keeper opened his mouth to protest, she talked right over his objections. "Rumika will be good, won't you my girl?" Sarah said softly as she gently moved her left hand over the silky nose of the mare. Both John and Nancy drew in their breath - anybody who tried to do that to a mare in distress could expect to loose their fingers. But never Sarah. Her presence alone seemed to calm even the most agitated and distraught animal. While Sarah gently soothed the horse's jaws, John sat carefully next to Rumika's head and put his hands on her head, stroking the sweaty fur. Most of the time Sarah's presence was enough to impart some sufferance on the people working with her, but it was always a good idea to be alert.

As Sarah kneeled behind the horse's hocks, she began giving Nancy directions in her most calming voice about what to check for as she slowly pushed her arm up the mare's birthing canal. While her gentle, calming tone was meant to still the horse, it also worked on the people around her. "I think I touched the foal's croup. Nancy, put your hands on Rumika's belly. Does the foal move? Can you feel where its head is?" Most of Sarah's arm was inside the mare when another labor pain hit, the massive contraction crushing the woman's arm. Sarah winced and bit her lip hard. That was going to be black and blue. Damn, this better went quick or there was no chance the foal would live. It probably was dead already, but at least the mare would live.

"There it is," cried Nancy, "the head is towards the croup I think."

As the contraction ebbed, Sarah pushed her arm further in and managed to find the leg of the foal - damn it, wrong leg. She needed the forelegs, slow now, move along the leg up, where the hell was that bloody chest, she was running out of arm here, and if ... oh god, here it is, yes, nose over the legs, careful now, very careful, it's lying wrong, pull here, slow so slow, please, forelegs here, head yes, there's the other one, shit, I forgot the cloth, can I cover the hooves with the hand? gotta try, the little one needs out, pull softly slowly, oh please, another contraction mashed Sarah's arm, but it pushed the foal where it needed to go, yes, feet down to Rumika's hind hooves, good, the head is rotating, now slowly, shoulders out, now straight out, careful, and with a final pull on the foal lay next to its mother. Sarah sat on the ground in a momentary daze while the foal wiggled its little body, snorting and whinnying low. As Sarah looked up, Nancy cleaned the foal's nose and muzzle to ensure its breathing while the mare relaxed on the straw.

"I didn't think the foal was alive still," John said to Sarah conversationally as he handed her a wet towel to clean herself. She was as sweaty as the horse and soaked in sticky liquid from the birthing, how long had it been? She'd lost track of time as she'd been fighting to save the foal.

"Well, I guess that foal's life is my birthday present," she said tiredly. "

By the time the guests come for the party tonight I will be wrecked. My only comfort is that you and Nancy will be in the same boat. And I will not accept any excuses, so you might want to get a touch of sleep sometime later." Sarah looked at the animal keepers with a smile. "Unfortunately our work here isn't done yet until Rumika has expelled the placenta, so let's get ready for an even longer night."

"And by the time the afterbirth comes you may even have realized that screaming at Doctor Harper is not the way to go," John told her.

"Screaming at that vicious bastard is the only way to go," said Sarah with an unpleasant grin.

"Never did you any good in the past, my girl."

"Maybe so, but this time I believe that Cooper woman is going to back me - he botched this birth so bad, she's going to have his head if she has a chance. She just needs some ammunition to prove he acted criminally stupid." Sarah smiled, cold and calculated. "I believe in sharing information."

* * *

Sarah didn't suffer fools gladly, never had, never would. Luckily she had realized even at a young age that while she might possibly have some talent at acting, she very definitely had a very low bullshit threshold. This pretty much put an end to her acting ambitions as it hadn't taken her long to realize that anything to do with acting was overrun with the kind of people that drove her crazy. She had tried, hard as she could try, but what could she do? Too many people who went into acting were just morons as far as she was concerned, and as time wore on and her interactions with other people extended her experience, she decided that most people were morons, period. It did not make her a popular girl, but she didn't give a damn.

Sarah knew she was pretty, boys liked slender girls with long hair, but she found herself quite unimpressed by the boys who felt she ought to be overjoyed to be asked out and then put out in gratitude. Lovely Sarah was asked out by the boys all the girls wanted to go out with, the good-looking, the cool and arrogant boys. She did not think so. Good looking? Boys, the lot of them, barely handsome compared to her memories of how beautiful a man could be. How could gelled hair compete with golden wisps of feathery hair standing on end as if alive with static electricity? Cool? What was cool about them? They all wore the same "cool" uniform of jeans and sloganed t-shirts and acted as if they knew the world, yet they were terrified of being really different and not accepted by the others. Arrogant? Hah, they couldn't have spelled the word. None of these boys as yet had anything to be arrogant about. She'd seen absolute confidence and arrogance, and she had the suspicion that the arrogance was based in a nearly realistic conviction of superiority. Not that she'd ever have admitted to it, for how would that make her look? Yet at barely seventeen Sarah Williams found herself in judgment over people, and she found most of them to be sadly lacking.

In the weeks after The Dream, Sarah had called out for her friends from the labyrinth again and again, had even wished herself away one night when life seemed especially boring, but there was never any sign that her memory held anything but the overheated imagination of an young girl not yet woman. She resolved never to tell about the labyrinth, for who would believe her anyway? Yet she held on to the hope it had truly happened. So what if she'd never be able to prove it? She figured she'd never be able to prove anything to do with quantum physics either, but that didn't make quantum physics a figment of her imagination. She decided that it did not matter. What really mattered was that her not quite thirteen hours in the labyrinth were true, whether they had actually happened or not. And so it went.

Within a year she had managed to earn the well-deserved reputation of a sarcastic bitch who seemed to think she was better than everyone else. Sarah knew she wasn't better, even though she did believe that she was smarter than a lot of them. However, she actually thought through the possible consequences of her behavior and did her best to understand what she truly wanted, and what wasn't that important. Only when she had come to a conclusion about this did she act to achieve the first, but avoid the latter. This was a concept largely unimaginable to her age group and made her even more an outsider than she had been. She felt she was done with acting on impulse and getting into trouble of her own making - whether The Dream had been just a mad hallucination or a frightening reality, she was not going to be that dumb again.

In her mind she had retraced her journey through the labyrinth again and again, and she couldn't help thinking the challenges hadn't really been that hard, and she'd been lucky to boot, to say nothing of the help that she had received. Her own fool stubbornness had likely helped her as much as her need to get Toby back - she had ever been driven as much by her anger as by desires, and the goblin king had needled her anger to a fine pitch, giving her the strength of her fury to keep going when she'd just wanted to sit down and cry. But at the core lay this: she'd brought the whole mess on herself.

So Sarah struggled through adolescence with eyes wide open and learned to see the kindness in people that were not popular, learned to ask for help from those who could give it when she needed it, and learned to use the drive of her anger to propel her towards the things she desired. She had few friends, but steadfast they were, like her not part of the popularity contest that was high school. She had come to love her step-mother, rather against her will in the beginning, because loving Karen meant admitting that Sarah had treated her wrong. Yet Karen did not care, happy as she was to let bygones be bygones - how could you hope to win over quickly a distraught teenage girl who wasn't Daddy's only sunshine any more and who suddenly had to share his affections with a baby brother? The odds were against it, and Karen believed in odds. And the odds also were that things would get better, and they did. Loving Toby was the easiest. A sister may be asked to babysit once in a while, but she does not bear the brunt of responsibility for the child, she can relish the joy of him, so loving an impish brother becomes easy, especially if this brother is a forever reminder of the one bit of magic your life has ever encountered.

* * *

"Not hard to see why you are a vet in an old Nissan, my girl, and not some hot-shot surgeon in a Porsche," John told Sarah over a cup of steaming coffee while they were relaxing after Rumika had discharged the placenta and now was busy to nicker and sniff her foal and then nicker and sniff some more, the foal whinnying in return. It was still an hour until sunrise.

"Because I don't give a damn?"

John laughed. "I have never heard you talk harshly to any animal, and heaven knows, that warthog you stitched up sometime last year deserved some serious dressing-down. That little bugger caused more damage than a runaway herd of buffaloes and you calmed him down like he was a crying babe. But people, bang and you blow up. Your bedside manners could use a little improvement, girl."

"Ah rubbish," Sarah laughed together with Nancy as she shook her not-so-threatening arm with the bruises already showing towards the old animal keeper. "I am perfectly nice to people unless they act so dumb as to be a menace. That warthog was a born gate breaker, couldn't help it if it was good at it. It meant not harm. Harper on the other hand is a self-aware bastard. He knew he should have called me two hours ago, he knows I calm the animals. He doesn't like me, fine, I don't care, but for heaven's sake, how can he wait until an animal is practically dying before he swallows his pride? He is the vet here, and welcome to it. I didn't even want his job, so why does he need to get into a pissing contest?" In anger Sarah's voice didn't rise but moved to the lower registers, deep, husky and scary.

"Now, girl, no need to spit at me. I know you don't want to work here full-time, but you also know they wouldn't have you even though you're the best. The beasts you are willing to give the benefit of the doubt. But with people you deal in absolutes, black or white, right or wrong. Ever given a thought to the possibility that the truth is in between?" John wasn't a man given to speeches, and Sarah valued his opinion.

She turned to Nancy with a grin: "See, Nancy, that's why I put up with him. Once you reach my advanced age the only person can call you 'girl' and mean it is a decrepit old man like John here."

Nancy protested "Come on, advanced age? I mean, you look really good ..."

Before she could finish Sarah cut her off with a deceptively sweet voice: "If you were going to say 'good for your age', prepare to die. I am so tired of people thinking it's a compliment to tell me that. I am 45, and this is what 45 looks like. Good, not just good for my age. I might have been prettier in my twenties, but I never felt it - never thin enough, pretty enough, good enough. Now I look in the mirror and finally I like what I see. I don't care about my grey hair, I can live with my wrinkles and I like my body. Only thing that is bothering me is gravity," and with an exaggerated sigh she elaborated when she saw Nancy's curious face: "You know what they say, don't you, Nancy? I still have everything I had at twenty, only lower." Sarah and John laughed at the look on Nancy's face.

"But you know what, John, I still think you are wrong. I admit that I might be a tad more accommodating sometimes, although it's a waste of time, most people consider me overpowering and a pain in the neck anyway, but Harper is just beyond the pale. You been here from the start, John, you know I didn't start out with him like today. But why would I give a damn about sweet-talking an ass like him when the guy is willing to compromise what's right for his petty grievances. I don't care if he insults me all day, but he knows I am good at what I do. And as for this sanctimonious 'the truth is in between', come on, John, you know I realize that. That warthog was an engine of destruction, no doubt, but it had not the foggiest what it was doing. Of course a lot of people wreak havoc without wanting to, or even realizing what their doing, but what is their excuse? We are not dumb animals, we make choices and we are responsible for the consequences of our actions. I always have to stifle the urge to strangle the next useless looser that tells me 'but I didn't want that to happen' or even better 'but I didn't know'. Well, do those idiots think their brain is for watching TV? I don't get angry at mistakes. Hell, I make enough of those myself. But why should I be so forgiving about mistakes that could have been avoided if anyone had actually bothered to use their brain?".

Before Sarah could elaborate further on a topic she obviously had a lot to say on, the door opened and Dolores Cooper from the Przewalski's horse breeding program stormed in. She was a usually impeccably put-together woman in her thirties, cool, collected and professional, the kind of look that Sarah had given up any hope of achieving over ten years ago. She did not pull off the look today. A purple bruise disfigured her left eye, her hair was put together in a disheveled pony tail and her pants and shirt looked as if they had been dragged out of a heap on the floor in the dark.

"How is Rumika," she asked in a low voice as she moved towards the mare and the foal in a slow, controlled gait. "I was on the way here when someone drove into me. It took a while 'til the police let me go and I could finally come."

Sarah walked up to her and addressed her with her best calm-the-beasts voice. "As you can see, Rumika and the foal are fine. I must say though, it was touch and go for a while. She was in distress for well over two hours and was very aggressive towards the animal keepers, but Harper still would not call me - that creep will do anything to keep me away. Pity you weren't here, it would have saved Rumika hours of pain and distress. John here finally went against Harper's direct orders and called me when her water broke." Dolores' face darkened as Sarah calmly outlined the evening's proceedings. Sarah never lied, she'd long decided she could not be bothered to remember all the complex specifics any lie engendered, but she didn't always say everything. And as everyone knows, how you frame a story matters as much as the truth of it. So, with an intonation here and an implication there, Sarah intentionally and carefully ended Dr Harper's career at the zoo.

* * *

/

* * *

The first guest were going to arrive within the next two hours and Sarah found herself slumped on the couch, too tired to get on with her preparations. She was grateful in her bones that Muriel's present had been the party itself - when she'd come home worn out after work everything had been prepared, the house clean and decorated, the fridge and pantry bulging with food, beer and wine in coolers, Three and Shuck all walked out and happily sleeping on the couch. With a groan Sarah threw herself onto the couch, pushing Three to the side to make some more space for herself. "Just a moment, I'll get up in a minute," she thought groggily. She woke up an indeterminable amount of time later with the warm bodies of the dogs nestled against her sides and Eek asleep in her lap. That nap had done her a world of good, and a quick glance at the clock told her why - she'd slept over an hour, and if she knew Rob and Brenda at all she'd better send Eek home before those two showed up early as they always did. A gentle touch woke Eek up immediately and he stretched as extensively as a cat if not as graceful, a maneuver that looked hilarious in a vaguely goatish-looking goblin.

"Happy birthday Sarra," he squeeked eagerly and wiggled into an upright position in her lap. It had taken several months, but through perseverance, dire threats, loud screaming, and huge amounts of hot chocolate in the way of rewards she had managed to convince Eek that he was welcome in her house whenever he was reasonably clean, and only then. Grimy hands, filthy clothes and stinky feet had cost him Sarah's hospitality often enough until he had finally resigned himself to only show up as neat as can be hoped for in a young child or a goblin. He pulled a carefully if lopsidedly wrapped present from the pocket of his power-rangers sweatshirt, another of his acquisitions from Sarah. "For Sarra, Eek get it for Sarra. Sarra like? Like?" he asked excitedly while Sarah had to stifle a laugh. Three and Shuck were looking at the present interestedly, Shuck using Eek's momentary distraction to thoroughly lick him eliciting shrieks of delight. Her campaign of goblin domestication had been a roaring success. She had made Eek feed her dogs special treats whenever he came, which occasionally had proven possible only after he first had his fill. But whether it was the blatant bribery or the realization that Eek was not a dangerous monster of a variety they'd never smelled before, the little goblin and her two dogs now got on famously. Affairs were not quite that happy with the other goblins as yet, but at least they all go on decently with only the occasional yelp from either party. Sarah had high hopes for the future.

Sarah was excited about what Eek might have got her. He had over the last year shown up with many little presents, all of which showed an appreciation for beauty that she had never expected. He would often bring her flowers the likes of which she had never seen before.

Once he came with a bunch of what he called Dragon-tongues, something like a grown-up version of snap-dragons, huge yellow-green flowers with a purple lower lip which kept dripping glowing sap that flared up in a black flame when it hit the surface. She ended up putting the vase on a huge serving platter that couldn't go up in flames like her tablecloth had, carefully keeping her hands away from the flowers as they had the nasty habit of trying to bite her.

Another time he had brought her two handfuls of Moon-tears, small, short stems with tiny milk-white flower buds that reminded her of gypsy weed. They had lasted one full moon-cycle, every night the flowers would open fully to show a multi-petaled flower face that looked as if had been created from the finest lace and glowed in a comforting silver light that made you think of all the good things in life. On the night of the full moon the flowers had begun to sing, in a piercingly high, sweet soprano choir that brought tears to Sarah's eyes, calling forth the memories of all she had loved and lost in her life, bringing her ghosts close enough for touch and smile, her father, Karen, Toby, Merlin one and two, friends who had died too young. She woke up the next day with her head on her arms on the dining table, her face sticky from dried tears and a smile on her lips that didn't leave for days.

And once, after she had send him away full of anger because he had broken a promise, Eek showed up in the middle of the night worse for wear, dripping wet, with twigs in his clothes and hair, blood on his finger tips and feet and scorch marks on his skin, to beg her forgiveness with an unearthly beautiful firebird tail feather, resplendent in vermilion and gold, shivering with magic. With nearly suicidal determination Eek had climbed up a cliff side to the Phoenix' roost and waited for the bird. He had proceeded to tear out a tail feather and hid it against his body under his t-shirt as he jumped out of the nest down the cliff, using to his advantage the near-indestructibility of goblins. Still it had been a close thing, the enraged phoenix screaming white-hot fire at the falling goblin, near engulfing him with the burning notes until Eek hit the water, safe at last.

Sometimes he brought pretty small stones he'd picked in the underground, striated in ways not found on earth, or the intricate shells of long-dead sea creatures that shone in an iridescent light unlike any Sarah had ever seen before.

But nothing had prepared her for this present. Sarah held the long necklace dangling off her hand before her eyes. She had never in her life seen anything as beautiful as this. While it was silver colored, it wasn't made of silver but of some material she didn't know - it had a matte, full shimmer that silver aspired to but never achieved. It felt alive in her grasp, warm and as if possessing a heartbeat of its own it nestled into her hand, a skillfully braided band of about one inch width with a smooth back. It was wrought by the most skillful craftsman to appear like so many twining plant stems winding around each other, with countless tiny shapely leaves growing out of the stems, minuscule phantasmagorical flowers blooming in the crevices. Sarah did not think that craftsmanship like this existed in her world.

She forced herself back to reality and looked at Eek inquiringly. "This is very lovely, Eek, but first I need you to tell me how you got this for me." Goblins were none to particular about the finer points of mine or yours, as she had discovered early. While she had been mostly successful in breaking this habit at least as far as her possessions were concerned, she didn't trust that they felt the restrictions on her property also applied to other people. To her surprise, Eek stood up to his full 30-inch height and spoke with great seriousness.

"Eek get necklace for Sarra, not belong anyone else ever, no steal. Sarra no like stealing Eek know. Promise I no steal. Pretty necklace for Sarra who love me." He was the most impressive Sarah had ever seen him, nothing even slightly ridiculous about his raggedy goblin-body, his eyes shining with love and sincerity. He immediately proceeded to erase that impression by beginning to jump up and down on her lap, his ears flopping and squeaking "Sarra like? Sarra like?"

Sarah could feel laughter bubbling up in her and she took the little goblin in a tight embrace, kissed him on the nose which made him sneeze and said in a voice choked up with emotion: "This is the most beautiful present I have ever received, Eek whom I love, thank you thank you thank you." With these words Sarah pulled the necklace over her head, where it began to shrink to fit perfectly around her neck, resting on her collarbones. It lay around her throat like a lover's hand, warm and comfortable, as if it was a part of herself.

"Listen Eek, I have to get ready for tonight's party, so you'll have to go home to the underground now, but you remember to tell the others that unless they have a bath and put on halfway clean clothes they will not be allowed to come to our party tomorrow evening." This was said in a stern voice, the goblins did need constant reminders to clean up." I have a special treat for you guys," Sarah shook her head as Eek excitedly pressed her for what it was going to be and said with a laugh: "Oh no, sweetie, you'll have to wait until tomorrow to find out, and I most certainly are not telling you beforehand. It would ruin the surprise." The little goblin looked as if he didn't much care about surprises, but he knew that nothing he said would change her mind. He'd tried before, but Sarah was as unmovable as the king himself once she'd made up her mind, and trying to get the king do something he didn't want, well, Eek didn't think it was possible.

"Your parties are always so much more fun than any other ones I get too," Nancy told Sarah as they stood in the kitchen doorway, looking at the crowd. Sarah's house was small, but at this occasion it was overflowing with people having a good time. The crowd extended all through the house, with the tub in the bathroom serving as supply center as it was filled with ice and beer and the other drinks set up around the wall. Laughter drifted in through the door to the porch from the crowd in the garden. People were milling by with plates filled with finger foods from the buffet in the dining room. As far as they could make out some attempts at dancing were made in the living room, although Sarah felt it rather looked like a bunch of people having epileptic fits in the upright. It was clear that ballroom dancing was dead.

"You will have to thank Muriel for this one," Sarah said touching Muriel's arm. "She must have spent the whole day getting my place ready."

"Hey, it's not everyday that your best friend since high school gets to be 45 and actually allows you to do something for her," giggled the tiny woman next to Sarah. They had met when Sarah searched for someone to teach her contact juggling after The Dream and found Muriel whose parents were circus people, Muriel who traveled and performed with her parents when school wasn't in session. Sarah had thrown herself into perfecting the fine art of manipulating the crystal balls as if by magic, and she had gotten as good as she was ever going to be without actual magic at her disposal. "And if you need to know the secret to a great party," Muriel lowered her voice conspiratorially, "just make sure to invite a lot of really interesting people with completely different backgrounds. Sarah's been a collector of those all her life. She likes new people and new things."

"I am not very good at doing new things," Nancy admitted sheepishly while she sipped her wine. "I always want to, but then there is too much to do every day, and I just never get around to anything."

"Such a pity," Sarah smirked at her young friend. "Really, you should make an effort to try out new things. You are missing out on some of life's great disappointments." Over the laughter of the other people in the circle Sarah kept going: "There is nothing inherently great about new things, you know, Nancy. Only reason I keep doing new things is that I have the attention span of a caffeinated chipmunk and get bored very easily, and I just don't need a lot of sleep. I simply have a lot of time on my hands and like to learn new stuff, so I keep doing things I haven't tried before. However, as bitter experience has taught me, a lot of things aren't worth doing even the first time around. On the other hand, I picked up a lot of completely useless skills over the years that have kept me entertained very successfully. And .. oops, excuse me guys, it would seem that John and Rob are at it again. Why those idiots don't just agree to disagree is beyond me," and with these words Sarah moved gracefully through the crowd, her dark curly head with a few silver strands bobbing up and down from the crowd like a seal's head though ocean waves.

In her wake her friends began a spirited discussion why the heck a smart, funny, curious and lovely woman like Sarah had never even begun dating again after her divorce from Rob over ten years ago. They agreed it could not be thwarted love, because while she obviously still loved Rob, it was just as obvious that they were only friends - even Brenda wasn't jealous or resentful, and she had been included in Sarah's wide circle of fiends when she and Rob had married, with not even a touch of rancor on Sarah's side for the woman who had taken her husband away. Muriel mentioned that Sarah was quite admired in their chapter of the Society for Creative Anachronism, but she kept turning down the advances of some of the most eligible men without a second thought. They all agreed that it was a waste.

"Well, it's all very well to say that we need to keep them in their natural environment, but what do you suggest, Rob? Should we look on as they die out while their habitats keep being destroyed? For heavens sake, man, what's wrong with the two-prong access? For the umpteenth time, why ... Oh hello, Sarah. Great party, as always. This crowd must be eating you out of house and home?" John hugged Sarah closely and looked her over appreciatively. "You're lucky, girl, if I was twenty years younger I'd make a play for you for sure. You get better-looking every year."

"It's all that character," Sarah said dryly. "I have character practically coming out of my ears. And I assume your deteriorating eyesight helps. But come on, you guys, how is this possible? Every bloody party and you end up arguing about the same topic. And you don't even disagree with each other where it matters, so what's the point? John, I hate to interrupt your love-fest with Rob, but somebody managed to ruin the last batch of barbecue - they are obviously in need of your superior skills in incinerating animal flesh."

With a laugh and a wink to Rob John turned to the bathroom to let the air out of his beer bottle and said over his shoulder: "Hey, we were just trying to instill a little passion into this party. Is it our fault that none of the people here have enough of an opinion to actually have disagreements? But hey, I know when I am one man too many, so I leave you two alone."

Laughing Rob turned to Sarah and embraced her in a bear-hug. "I have to agree with John, you look better with every passing year, love. But I still liked your hair better when it was long. These curls make you look so impish," he said with his deep, rough voice.

Sarah looked at her ex-husband with affection. A short, stocky and muscular man with dark-brown hair and eyes he was the most self-effacing and kind man Sarah had ever met. He had not a mean bone in his body and spent his life helping others. Since he was also a very smart man, he had been promoted head of the local social services years ago. "It just got to be too much, you know how long it took me to wash and dry all that hair. And I must say, I was pleasantly surprised when my short hair turned out curly - that horsehair mane of mine was obviously so heavy that it pulled out the curls. Thanks for the impish - I take that as a compliment."

As Sarah kept talking to Rob she thought for the millionth time that she sometimes missed the comfort of marriage, the companionship, the intimacy of caring. It wasn't the sex - while she had always liked it, she had realized early on that she just wasn't very exciting. The kind of sex that you read about and saw in movies didn't happen to women like her, she'd never been swept away and lost control in her life, no man had ever made her loose her hold on reality and made her feel like she was something wondrous.

She thought ruefully that this was true even for love. She had loved Rob when they married and still did, but she had never been in love with him, or any man. She had heard her friends tell about it, the shiver that would run down your arm when the one you were in love with touched you, the need to be near him, the incessant thinking about him, the joy his presence would bring. It was one thing she lacked, in a life filled with love, with friends, with joy, she had never loved anyone as a woman loved her man. So she could not fight for Rob once she realized that he had accidentally chanced upon love with Brenda, found something in the woman that she could never give him. She had long since come to terms with this, how could you miss what you never had when so many good things fill your life with pleasure and joy? As more friends joined her conversation with Rob, she felt a familiar joy course through her. How many people could look at their existence and feel that they had won the lottery of live? Sarah smiled. Life just couldn't be better.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV**

The noise filled the high room like a cloud of bees, the expected result of a sizable number of goblins in an enclosed space. But as was always the case when the king spent time with his goblins, the goblin throne room was positively bursting at the seams, and ever more goblins kept trying to push their way in. This had already led to several fights as the goblins were more or less accidentally banging into each other, and so of course the gathering became even more attractive. The goblins were instinctively drawn to their king, and he always welcomed them to join him in the throne room. Jareth lolled on his throne in a rather haphazard fashion, one leg over the armrest and the other stretched long on the floor, with a wide-eyed toddler standing in his lap, held upright between his hands. With utter concentration the baby tried to snatch a strand of the goblin king's hair with its unsteady hands, kicking about with his legs.

With lightning-quick movement the goblin king lifted the baby up. "Now my pretty boy, you would not want to maim me, would you? I know countless ladies who'd never forgive you if your kicks actually made contact, you violent little creature" he chided the child with laughter in his voice. His merry voice stilled the child for a moment, the boy cocked his head and gurgled.

"That's quite right, my boy, I am most impressed that you agree with me - so young yet so wise already. You seem to understand instinctively that it is an excellent idea to be very accommodating to the man who will decide your future. Simply hold on to this thought. But now, let us see how your mother is faring." Jareth set the child down on his lap and conjured a scrying crystal between his fingers and held the ball before the boy's face, observing the mother's progress over the boy's shoulder.

"Your mother is doing much better than I would ever have expected, Omari, resourceful, strong and able to make friends quickly. But I should not be surprised, she's anything but a dreamy silly girl, don't you think? So much stronger than those witless girls that have been running the labyrinth for a long, long time. It is certainly time to waylay her to impede her progress, wouldn't you say?" With these words he threw the crystal high in the air, the shimmering globe turning into a brilliantly colored hummingbird which promptly flew out of a window into the labyrinth. As the toddler stared after the bird, Jareth began to sing to him, which distracted not only the child but all the goblins as well.

Goblins loved music, and whenever their king would sing for them, they'd hop and move to it as best they could, which in their king's very vocal and oft repeated opinion was very poor indeed. At least they didn't sing along any longer. He had quickly and ruthlessly curtailed them trying to join him, trying being the operative word. Jareth enjoyed singing for his goblins, but he felt having to endure their miserable attempts at a making tolerable sounds was more than anyone with working eardrums could bear. Jareth had thoroughly convinced the goblins that any venture to join him would not only lead to an immediate end of the song but also to an equally immediate dunk in the bog. It didn't take long until even the dumbest of them kept their mouths shut.

A small and frighteningly ugly goblin with a rusty colander on his head tumbled over to his king, proudly holding a banged-up trumpet nearly as big as himself. He had obviously decided it was time to accompany the singer, which he promptly did. Since Scri had no idea what he was doing, all he produced was a series of off-key sounds that only occasionally amounted to anything like a real tone, which did not faze him in the slightest. Most of the time he produced a racket that resembled nothing as much as noisy farts. He kept going even when his king had to stop singing because he was doubling over with laughter.

"Well, my little slayer of music, let me give you some advice: Don't ever try to play the violin," Jareth said between bouts of laughter. "I shudder to imagine the crimes against music you might commit with an instrument even more exquisitely up to the job. I am already astounded by the abysmal sounds you are able to extract from this hapless instrument. This is a case of extreme cruelty to trumpets."

The goblin was looking up at the king with adoration in his face. The king was talking to him!

"However, I cannot see why you would even need a trumpet for these noises, most of you are doing just fine without it. But let me tell you, Scri, this has to be the worst accompaniment I have had in all my life, bad enough for me to consider throwing myself out of the window to end the pain." The goblin's face was enraptured, the king was having a conversation with him, and laughing, and everything. Goblins weren't generally too demanding when interactions with their king were concerned - he laughed, his voice was gentle, so they knew they did well. At the beginning of their life they were a lot like dogs - what mattered was the tone, not the content, which they generally couldn't understand anyway.

So the beaming goblin proceeded to tell his king how he had found the fantastic instrument in the swampy borderland of the kingdom, and how there were many more interesting things, broken swords, metal shirts and lots of bones and stuff. Jareth smiled - the old battlefields in the borderlands kept drawing his goblins, luring them with enough shiny things to satisfy their magpie natures. But Scri went on how he hadn't liked it, there had been too many of the red-beaked crows, and he was afraid of meeting Babd. The king's face turned grim, but his voice was gentle as he encouraged the goblin to keep talking. Babd and her killing crows within his borders? A visitation of Babd always meant something. War came to mind. Scri's story was soon augmented by the tales of other goblins pushing close, telling their attentive king other stories of seeing the blood-beaked crows, or finding signs of struggle and death in the borderlands.

Being insatiably curious, not impeded by morals, scruples or enough imagination for fear, and possessed of magic to allow them to vanish unseen when necessary, goblins were born spies. The low regard they were held in and the unthinking ease with which everyone discounted them was actually an asset for their snooping. There wasn't a secret in the labyrinth they would not ferret out eventually, nor anything out of the ordinary that they would not entertain their king with when he spend time with them. With his goblins his eyes and ears, Jareth was as close to omniscient as was possible. He found it most entertaining, invaluable for ruling the goblin kingdom, and at times crucial for it's survival.

As Jareth looked around to see what had happened to the little boy, Omari, he saw one of his goblins lying on his back with his arms and bended legs in the air, the toddler's stomach on the bottom of his feet while he held the child's hands tightly in his. Pushing his legs up he propelled the child into the air for a moment before he caught the little body again with his feet. Squeals of delight filled the air. It was a sight that would have stopped any mother's heart. But no wished-away child had ever come to harm in the care of the goblins, for rude, crude and silly they might be, but clumsy or careless with helpless, living things they were not.

"Eek, what a lovely surprise to see you again," even the king's amused voice didn't break the goblin's concentration, he caught the child safely and set him on the ground as he rolled around. Omari, while disappointed in the sudden interruption of his foray into flying, immediately realized that there was another one of these fascinating creatures eating something. He crawled towards the new goblin and soon could be seen happily chewing on something that was most certainly unhygienic and, if his enthusiasm was any indication, very tasty.

"Oh my king, please, Eek is traveling, gone for long, I be many places, but want come see king, so I brung you present," Eek was staring adoringly into his king's face with a wide smile plastered over his face as he held out a rather clean hand. It was a lovely dagger, beautiful old dwarf work, despite its obvious age and some wear an exquisite piece of workmanship. Goblins always gave presents to their king as tokens of their love, but they tended to lack the ability to understand that what they found fascinating might not be to anyone else. And it rarely ever was. Jareth looked Eek over with approval. The goblin was maturing, not just some witless bit of wild magic any longer, he was becoming what he was meant to be. Still ugly and graceless, still awkward, yet now possessed of will, of meaning, of knowledge of himself, and the ability to feel with someone else. Jareth could always tell when his goblins became. In general however goblins tended to become when they were around their king a lot, he could see them slowly change from being no more than silly information-gathering sprouts of the labyrinth's magic to creatures of their own. But Eek had been around only very little for a good while, so he was obviously one of the very rare goblins that became while away from their king, one of the goblins that had the makings of being invaluable aides. Not yet quite there, however.

"Thank you for the dagger, my dear Eek," Jareth purred with careless malice in his voice. "So it would seem that you are vying for a position in my guard, are you? Daggers make meaningful presents, as I now realize you understand. I will make sure to put in a good word for you with my captain Sed. He recently told me that he feels I need more guards to protect my person, and since you are offering," at this Jareth burst into laughter at the little goblin's bug-eyed face. "But then again, perhaps you would not be such a good choice. I rather like my guards to be able to face blood without puking and to use their weapons without doing damage to themselves. Or me." It was downright pathetic to see the relief in Eek's face.  
"But tell me more about your travels, they seem to have done you good." Eek told him a great many stories about the strange things people did above, and about all the things he had come across in the labyrinth without ever once mentioning the time he spent in the company of Sarah, or her existence at all. Had Jareth but known that the goblin kept secret from him his friendship with a human woman, he would have known that Eek had fully become. Eek was a part of the labyrinth, he belonged to the goblin king now and forever and would have laid down his life happily and without hesitation for his king, but he was the first goblin in eons to have bound himself to another but Jareth. It wasn't surprising that Jareth did not recognize this, as it had never happened in his reign.

But Eek had darker stories to tell. "What Scri say about Babd's crows in borderlands. They is in Simien mountains too, not only borderland. Eek see nightflock of blood crows hunt child there, but Eek hunt crows. Girl was labyrinth. Her father give me dagger, ask me give you, tell you. Much more dwarf in Simien mountain than before. Dwarf mine in Kuhmo always, but now many dwarf in Joensuu and Rovaniemi too. Many womans and childs, alone. They is taken in by dwarf of labyrinth, but not belong here. They is afraid."

Jareth swore under his breath. This was bad news indeed. Why hadn't he heard of this before? He knew the answer - the dwarves had magic of their own, and they used it together with their formidable strength and their ability to see in the dark to guard the big cave cities they lived in, a good thing if you were creating beautiful, shiny things that goblins loved to steal. His goblins did not like to hang about dwarves much, and it had never been a problem before - the Simien mountains were far away from the borders of the goblin kingdom and the powerful dwarves were sworn to the land, so why would he worry about them? This benign neglect had obviously been a mistake. Dwarves also tended to try to take care of their own problems without asking for help, and it seemed they were taking it too far this time. Eek's words told a bleak story. No dwarf woman was ever without males of her clan to guard her as women were held in high esteem among dwarves, and their few children were the treasure of the race. Any dwarf would risk his life to help a child. Womenfolk and children on their own meant no men lived. It stood to reason that their men had seen no other solution but to send them away from their homes to hoped-for safety, unprotected, while trying to cover their escape, and many of them had obviously not lived to catch up. Ardar Iforas at the winter borders of the goblin kingdom was the only demesne that had a sizable dwarf population. Lleu king of Ardar Iforas had engaged in violent attempts to win the goblin kingdom for himself before, and it seemed he was not beyond sacrificing his dwarves to his ambition, whatever his plans might be. While Jareth mulled over the news, other goblins pushed closer again, telling more and ever stranger stories.

* * *

"I have never seen him like this," thought the young fae who stood unnoticed at the entrance to the goblin throne room, watching the goblin king standing surrounded by goblins trying to catch his attention. Like all of his kind the young fae was tall and slender, his eyes the color of storm set wide in his strong-jawed face, silky honey-colored hair falling in a long braid down his back. His skin was unfashionably bronzed by sunlight, and his hands showed the calluses of use. He watched Jareth move through the tumultuous crowd loose-limbed and unguarded, with no thought of protecting himself, as relaxed and unwound as he had never seen the king. "I always thought you have to be fae born and bred to be at ease as he is, as confident and fearless. But only this is without pretense, real; at court he is wearing a mask as much as I do." This thought gave him the courage to move away from the door and throw himself into the throng to push his way to Jareth.

Feeling the labyrinth push his attention to the unexpected movement in the corner of his eye, Jareth gracefully turned to face the young man who had come closer. Without noticeable shift he was the goblin king again, charming, cruel, carefree and imperceptibly guarded, a man too arrogant and probably shallow to feel deeply about anything.

"I was not informed that you had returned from my father's court, Tobias, " Jareth smiled at the young man with real warmth in his eyes. "This means that you either have just arrived and could not wait to immediately pay your respect to me, a sentiment that I heartily agree with, by the way, or you have arrived earlier but are even better at keeping secrets than anyone else in this blasted kingdom. Not even my goblins have told me about your return."  
Jareth embraced Toby and then held him at arms length to look him over. "My, but you have grown, my dear boy," he smiled with appreciation in his eyes. "If I remember the women at my father's court correctly you must have been told this before. And shown, of course." He suddenly reached out and took up Toby's braid. "And I see that you have been following my mother's entreaties, Tobias. She is such an admirer in long hair in men."

Blushing, Toby sputtered that his hair style had nothing to do with Eriu, and the queen had eyes only for the king anyway, yet as he tried to dismiss Jareth's teasing he entangled himself deeper and deeper.

Jareth threw his head back and laughed. "Eyes only for my father - you must think me a doddering fool. My mother is soul-bound, not blind, and as long as I can remember my father has refused to grow his hair. But do not think I begrudge her the company of adoring young men that will do as she asks them. As I imagine you have realized, my father does his best not to give in to her on principle. And on principle, she keeps trying to make him surrender to her."

"I think you are being to harsh, Jareth. My time at your parent's court was a precious gift, but still, it was a bit too orderly for me to stay there any longer. I was glad to know I'd come back here, even though I know I will sometimes miss it. Your parents shine in their court like sun and moon," Toby said with wonder in his voice. "But I rather lost my desire to ever find a soul-mate. Somehow the stories are much more seductive than the reality. I never thought love to be so all-encompassing, I felt exhausted just looking at them. They seem so attuned to each other, knowing about each others presence and state of mind without words or even gestures. And I disagree with your words, Eriu never asks your father for anything when it really matters, yet Cethur gives in to her whenever it does."

This time Jareth laughed out loud with real amusement. "You have become a clear-eyed observer, Tobias. Soul-binding is harder than most imagine. Being soul-bound does not mean that you are in agreement, or even like where your beloved goes. You are bound to another beyond time, but you have no choice in the matter. I indeed believe my parents are lucky to be so well-matched. My father has ever been a powerful man, determined, yes, stubborn a-times, and my mother is a true woman, willing to defer to him and let him lead where he may. Each of them fills a part in the other's soul that would lie empty without them." Jareth seemed lost in thought for a moment, but when he looked up he added with a grin: "Yet I simply cannot understand why anyone would want to restrict himself to one woman for all eternity if they ever had a choice - not, admittedly, that my parents had a word in the decision."

Toby looked at the goblin king cockily. "Oh yes, I have heard tales of your conquests, there are some lovely ladies at your father's court still pining for you. Your bother was at court for a good while and taught much about fencing, and gods, he drilled me black and blue, best swords teacher I ever had. Tiernan had an endless supply of stories about when you grew up together. They were an education in itself. I think I should take you as a role model."

"Do not believe everything Tiernan told you. He was the wild boy, not me, and I admired him greatly, doing my dumbest to impress him. I doubt I succeeded, but I am sure that our mis-spent youth does make for spell-binding stories."

* * *

At this point Omari had managed to crawl up to Jareth and studied his boots with great concentration, eventually grabbing one to the leather thongs and trying to stick it into his mouth. Jareth bend over and picked the child up, resting him easily in the crock of his arm.

"You're a real natural with babies, Jareth. This kid does not look as if it wants to go back to the above," Toby laughed at the charming picture before his eye. He doubted that many had ever seen the terrifying goblin king look quite so domestic.

"This is just as well," responded the goblin king, "since he will not be going back. The underground always needs more children, and I would be falling down on the job if I didn't take the opportunity as it offered itself."

"So, how is the runner doing?" Toby asked curiously. All those many years ago, in his other live above, his sister had told him about the underground, about the race through the labyrinth to save him, and even though he had thought it but a story, it had staid in his mind, to his good fortune.

Jareth turned his hand gracefully and created a crystal showing the young girl running for Omari's freedom. She looked twelve, a malnourished twelve that is. Her rich bitter-chocolate skin had a grey tint from hunger and exhaustion, her eyes huge in her proud, sharp face. With her a shy kushtaka, in its otter form, leading the way, looking like a furry wave as it ran sure-footedly ahead, drawn to help and love her by the scent of a pure heart. Less than two hours left, yet against the goblin king's true attempts at impeding her progress she had fought her way to the outer ring of the city in the heart of the labyrinth. Jareth smiled at the girl's reflection in the crystal in admiration.

"His sister wished him away? She seems real determined to get him back," Toby said a touch hesitantly. "I thought running the labyrinth is a test for the wisher, and if they truly want the wished-away, they will always win? You once told me that the ones who didn't truly mean their wish are the only ones that put up an honest fight for the wished-away. The others who really don't give a damn about the wished-away never get to the city. But there she is, so this kid didn't know what she was doing, did she? Why are you going to keep the baby? How old is she, anyway?"

"Her name is Makemba," Jareth said quietly. "She will be fourteen in five months. She is his mother, not his sister."

"What.. mother? But .. that boy is at least a year, I mean, how could she be his mother? I guess you are right - she deserves to loose him," Toby said, suddenly disgusted at the girl.

Jareth looked at him with a cold smile. "The men who raped her did not care that she was a young child only, unluckily just old enough to have started bleeding," he ignored Toby's sputtering as he gazed into the crystal. "When she came to and managed to make her way home hours later to find comfort in her mother's arms, she found her village burnt, her parents slaughtered, blood on her mother's legs as on her own." He looked down on Toby's pale, shocked face. "When the raiders came, her mother put her seven month old baby girl into the arms of her four year old brother and told the boy to hide in the bush, away from the village, to be quiet and not come back until he saw a familiar face. So Makemba came back to death and despair, and her little brother and sister came to her for comfort and love. She has been the mother of her family ever since. They eat even if she doesn't, she does whatever is necessary for their survival."

"But - who would do something like that," Toby burst out in wide-eyed horror.

"Soldiers, rebels, neighbors, who knows or cares," Jareth said with a grim expression on his face. "Humans."

He threw the crystal against the wall in sudden fury, where it broke into silvery dust. The goblins looked up for a moment, but decided that their king wasn't angry with them, and went back to their own business.

"Makemba is a mother, but she is a child still. She is mine, as is her son. And so are her siblings who call her mother. They will be fae. Such a loss for the above," he suddenly smiled with true joy, "but they never care. In the underground, she will be what she is, a lady true, and valued." He turned to Toby, a sardonic smile on his lips. "Above or underground, know that nothing is at it first seems, Tobias."

* * *

"Forgive me, Jareth, I spoke without thinking. I am fae now, for so long, I forgot about the Above. I used to know, but ..." Toby looked up at the goblin king's face, his face closed. "I never asked, but what happened to that ... man?"

"If you ask me again, Tobias, I will tell you exactly what happened to him, but you may want to reconsider your request. I doubt that you would like what I should tell you. But you may rest assured that he paid for all he had done in his life, and planned to be doing, in the short time that was left to him." To Toby's eyes, Jareth had never resembled his goblins more than now, his crooked smile wild and untamed, wild magic without constraints, self-satisfied and cruel, content in the knowledge that he had visited vengeance on those deserving of it.

Toby thought for a moment, then he grinned, with an effort but a grin still: "No, I think I don't need to know the exact circumstances. I believe you gave me all the answer I needed. Thank you." Before he could change his mind, he went on determinedly: "I have been very happy at your parent's court, and I am grateful you fostered me there. But I missed the labyrinth, my friends, even the goblins. I want to swear fealty to you. I have thought this through for a very long time, and I know that this is what I want." He waited with bated breath for the answer of the goblin king.

"I do not accept a blood oath from one as young as you, as I am sure you know," Jareth said with a smile that was as final as his words. "Swearing fealty will bind you for the rest of your life, and you can never turn back. My goblins will never be welcome anywhere else, if they could ever be persuaded to leave in the first place, and most of those who are sworn to me would not be wanted anywhere else. You, however, still have the choice. Every court in the underground would welcome you gladly."

"In the above I would have died of old age already," Toby answered with some heat. "I am well neigh a hundred years old, and while I know this is nothing compared to your years, I have experienced much."

"Your very words prove me right, Tobias. In the above you would have died an old man, but you would have lived as a human and experienced the creeping loss of your future, the shortening of your time, you would have learned to face the end of all possibilities. You would, as humans do, learned to accept the limitations, enjoyed the beauty of existence while accepting it finite state, you would have loved and lost. You would have become wise. Wisdom comes much slower to us in the underground . You have never loved a woman as you will one day, you have never been a parent, you have never lost anyone you loved. You are young and impatient, fae to the bone. Too young to swear fealty."

"So how long until you will consider me old enough to know my mind?" Toby asked quietly.

"Among our kind you will come of age with thrice the years you have lived, as I am confident you know. So I wonder why you are asking, Tobias. Pray tell, what is it you have not told me?"

"When I left the court of Danu to come back home to the labyrinth, I went to the Nephilim."

Jareth's eyes widened. "I am not going to ask you a pointless question like how long you have been there, but I wonder why you believe this excursion matters in our conversation?"

"I have always known I belonged to the goblin kingdom, and yes, I knew at what age I'd reach my majority. War is coming. I can taste it like ash in my mouth, I can feel it like a blade rasping on my skin. I do not want to sit on the sidelines, useless to the place that is my home. I know you think I am too young and try to keep me safe. So I went to the realm of the Nephilim. They taught me sword dancing. Shemyaza tells me I will never be as good as you are, but he believes I am doing well enough to allow you to test my mettle. Time passes not among the watchers, but you know what it takes to learn sword dancing. I am of age, and more."

As Toby told his story, Jareth's brows rose higher and higher. "So you meant to trick me, Tobias," he purred silkily, "Trying to exact a promise from me under pretense, lying, cheating, betraying an old friend for your own personal gain, now did you not?"

Suddenly Toby found it hard to breath, the goblin king was radiating menace, and fear began to grip him. It took all he had not to tremble as he kept his spine straight and his eyes on Jareth's face as sweat began to run down his body. Perhaps he should have actually asked Tiernan about his plan and not just assumed it would work because it was something the young Jareth might have done himself.

With an unexpected laugh Jareth pulled the young man into an embrace. "Well done, my boy. Even though you still need to learn much, you already have many of the qualities I am looking for in my personal attendants. I can see that you may be most useful help in the war that is brewing, for you are right, death shadows the land." Jareth gave Toby a wryly amused look. "Did you think I was going to drop you in an oubliette and forget you for the next two hundred years?"

Toby gave him his best devil-may-care grin. "I admit, the thought did cross my mind for a moment."

"I am glad to hear you were not sure what I might do. But really, now I'd much rather know how you fared with the Nephilim, Tobias. You are right, if you have learned even the fundamental forms of the sword dance, you have well passed your majority. A stay in their realm is ... let us say, a challenge. There aren't many who can bear a stay in the Nephilim realm. It is astounding how long no time at all can last."

"Shemyaza said you have danced the swords with them for .. damn it, they don't even have the word. Nothing prepares you for existence without time, I am not even sure you can call it life. I was dizzy most of the time with them, if you can call it that in a realm where time does not exist. Everything shimmers in eternal immovable change, and I just could never get used to it. I mean, at some point you simply accept that every creature you look at flickers from unborn to decaying in an instant because without time everything exists at the same time during, before and after life, but I found it very disturbing to see the mountains be there but not at the same time. That's probably the wrong word again. I could never get used to the idea that mountains exist in time as well." Toby looked at Jareth sheepishly. "I ended up spending a lot of time with Penemue. She is the most beautiful creature I have ever seen, and likely ever will, unchanging in eternity, which also means like all the Nephilim she is didn't give me a constant headache. I can't understand why you would ever go there willingly, Jareth, but they consider you a friend, and speak of you well."

"So your time with the watchers was a true sacrifice for the labyrinth, was it not? I believe you have well earned the right to swear fealty, if this is what you truly wish. You are young still, Tobias. We fae are immortal, un-aging unless we meet an untimely end through violence. But our immortality is bound to time nevertheless. We are like fish in water, surrounded by time, unable to imagine existence any other way. We are born, we age until we decide to not to, and our years are gathering on us. Everything has a yesterday and a tomorrow. I can reorder time, an exceedingly rare gift to be sure, if necessary to reach the above, yet I am bound to time as much as anyone. I find it restful to visit the Nephilim - the watchers know all of me, all my yesterdays and tomorrows, and their steadfast friendship tells me that I am, all my life, enough of the man I care to be - no watcher has ever befriended those who are evil and careless of life and their obligations. But I understand what you mean, Tobias, living without any sensation of time is disorienting. Any moment is less than a heartbeat but also eternity. How can you tell the difference?"

A look at Toby's lost face convinced Jareth that the young fae did not understand. Yet. "You know, Tobias, I believe the watchers occasionally feel the same way about time as we do about the lack of it. They do not understand time, but they are intrigued, and curious, and they want to experience it. The Nephilim live outside of time, yet they are masters of the sword dance which has a distinctive beginning and an end. One wrong move and the sword could end the dancer's life, and it cannot be predicted if this move will happen. Dancing is as close as they may ever come to experiencing the passage of time." Another glance convinced Jareth that this conversation might have to be postponed for a few hundred more years for all the good it did Toby.

A sudden hard yank on his hair brought Jareth back to the right now and here. It seemed Omari had no inclination for philosophical conversations either, which brought back more pressing matters to his mind. With a grin, Jareth called out to Eek and handed the boy over to the little goblin's safekeeping. He knew the child would be well taken care of.

"You can shape-change, Tobias? What is your bird form?"

"A sparrowhawk, but ... where are we going, Jareth?"

Jareth moved towards the windows. "I need to have a little chat with Makemba and convince her that coming here with her siblings is in her - and their - best interest. And I had rather planned to bring you to a quieter spot for your oath. But by all means, let us do it here if this is what you want. It may be more fitting than you can understand now to swear fealty surrounded by my noisy goblins."

With a grin Toby ran by him to the window and called out over his shoulder: "I bet a sparrowhawk can outfly a barnowl, don't you think?" He jumped over the window sill in one smooth jump and turned into a fierce little sparrowhawk midjump, catching the wind with a shrieking ke-ke-ke. With a graceful leap Jareth followed him and turned into a stunning barn owl midfall, catching the air under his wings. He beat his powerful wings and flew towards the outskirts of the goblin city, closely followed by the sparrowhawk who managed to keep up with him despite being but half his size.

* * *

/

* * *

Flying was exhilarating as always, free from the bindings of the body he rode the wind effortlessly, enjoying the gentle caress of the wind and the soft touch of the sun's rays. _Can you feel anything different about the Simien mountains? Has the dwarfs' touch in you mind changed?  
_The labyrinth, bound intimately to Jareth's mind, shared the thoughts of its chosen as they occurred and answered immediately and in obvious distress. _**Worry, self-reproach, apprehension - BUT I FEEL NO CHANGE, NOT ATTEMPTS TO INVADE, NO ENEMIES IN THE DEMESNE. NO BLOOD OF MINE WAS SPILT IN THE MOUNTAINS. I FEEL MANY IN THE MOUNTAINS NOW BUT THEY ARE NOT MINE OWN, LI KNOW THEM NOT. NO ENEMIES THEY ARE, BUT FEARFUL. THEY WILL BE MINE ONE DAY. I HAVE SUFFERED THE TOUCH OF WHITE BABDH, BUT ONLY IN PASSING. SHE DOES NOT DARE TO COME AND STAY, FOR I WOULD DRAIN HER. I HAVE FELT BLOOD SEEPING INTO MY SOIL BUT NO BLOOD OF MINE OWN. YOU HAVE SEEN ALL I KNOW, THE SHADOW OF WAR LOOMS, BUT I KNOW NOT WHERE THE DARKNESS THREATENS.  
**_The owl called out a rasping screech. _How could you have known? Do not worry. No attack on our people yet but a plot is brewing. We will watch, we will be ready. When have we ever failed? Tomorrow and the days to come I will fly over our kingdom. Share my mind, and let me share deeply in yours. Together we will find out what has changed, what tries to move into our own. Who can beat the both of us?_

The power of the labyrinth was immense, but then so was the entity which called itself labyrinth. A sentient being whose body was the physical labyrinth itself, it was created wholly of wild magic and ever changeable; the physical touch of the beings living on the labyrinth were neigh intangible to it. The labyrinth felt the touch of the dwarves cutting deep mineshafts into the ground as a pinprick, it felt the wind blowing over the wheatfields of its plains like a lover's breath on its skin. It could only perceive of the miniscule life living on it through the light touch of their magic, through the blood oath that irrevocably bound the goblin kingdom's citizens to the labyrinth. The labyrinth had conceived of the goblins as its eyes and ears, sending them out to mingle with life making its home in the goblin kingdom, but where the goblins could not give information it had to rely on magic. The labyrinth could feel the death or torment of those sworn to it, and any oathbound could in dire circumstances touch their mind directly to the labyrinth. It could feel the presence of those not sworn to it, but not much more. Limitation of scale was a problem when you wanted information from the labyrinth, as Jareth had learned early. But between the labyrinth's power, at his command whenever he needed it, and his own shrewdness, they had always come up victorious. Yet only for the labyrinth's chosen the binding was mutual, both bound to each other fully to share thoughts, dreams, fears and hopes equally. What one knew, the other one did as well. But the exchange of information remained fraught with difficulties. It was ever a slow and uncertain process, best achieved over time in dreams and visions in the sharing of their experiences. It remained difficult to quickly and efficiently communicate information if not emotion. Jareth was not worried. What would be, would be, but he had ever trusted in their ability to outsmart and outfight any challenger, and he had ever enjoyed meeting a challenge.

* * *

/

* * *

Spotting the small body of a young girl drinking from a fountain in a dusty town square, Jareth swooped down on her and turned into his human shape before her eyes. Makemba's eyes grew huge and she backed into the stone embankment of the fountain. The kushtaka who had been lapping up water as well, hissed her surprise and turned from her otter to her human shape. Jareth looked her over with approval as the kushtaka, a compact woman with otter-sleek short hair the color of sable, tried to inconspicuously position herself in front of the girl.

"Step back, Daxkei'x of the Teikweidi, this is not to do with you. I shall not harm the girl. I must talk to her without distraction, but since you are her friend I will allow you to stand by her." With an impatient gesture of his hand he directed the reluctant woman to the side. The kushtaka opened her mouth as if to protest, but a sharp look of the king made her retreat. At least Toby had had the sense to remain a sparrowhawk and sat on the low branch of a tree, interestedly observing the proceedings. The runner girl had used the short intermezzo to gather her wits about her and stared unabashedly at the king. She could have hardly done anything else, he was a sight to behold, out of her darkest, most secret dreams and nightmares. He wore a beautiful black and silver kente cloth wrapped tightly around his waist, covering his legs to the knees, and what looked like a long stunningly painted leather vest. Pale silver bangles encased his wrists and ankles. His hair was near-white as the sun at midday, and his pale skin shimmered like pearls. His lithe, lightly muscled arms and chest seemed covered by scar tattoos the color of old ivory. They were disconcerting, different every time she looked, inescapably drawing her eyes. His mismatched eyes looked at her mockingly.

"I am nearly at the castle, and I will have my son back from you, you Yomboe bastard." Makemba would not admit that she was terrified of this ghostly yomboe lord, much taller than the stories had made her believe, but as pale and lovely as the moon. How could such as he be evil? She racked her brain to recall her mother's stories, but all she remembered is that the moon-colored Yomboe would not lie, tricksters they were, but true to their word. But what did it matter? He had her son, and she would not give in to her fear. She had to get Omari back.

"So if you win, little girl, what will you do then? Go proudly back home, where you cannot find enough food for him and the two others? What will you do when the rebels come, little girl? Do you think they will be more merciful this time than before?" His voice was as beautiful as all of him, clear and cold as ice, seductive and much to truthful to be listened to.

"My son will not be an adze, never," she cried, "you will not have him as one of your creatures."

"I have enough goblins, my dear, and I do believe Omari has a greater future than that. If he has a future at all, Makemba," he went on inescapably, his poison words never allowing her to ignore him. "What will your son become, Makemba? Will you be able to send him to school? Or will they steal him for a soldier, to kill and to rape and to die young and ignorant in the frontlines? Will your little sister suffer the same as you have? For you know that there is no protection in your world, you can keep them safe no more than your parents could keep you safe. War is ravaging your country, Makemba, don't you hear the anxious whispers of the elders? You know that someday the men with the weapons will come back, for you, for your kin, and they do not care about love and they know not about responsibility and obligation. But you can save your own, Makemba, you can keep them safe, and you can be safe yourself, child. Wish for you sister and brother to join you and your son, wish them to safety," Jareth voice became more urgent, more seductive. "Do you not want to learn, be safe? Do you not wish for your children to grow up with a future, not just fear?"

"How can I believe you," cried Makemba, tears running down her face. "Everything in your labyrinth is a lie, a trick, every guide sent me the wrong way, every turn I took twisted back on itself to hinder me. How can I play with my children's life when I cannot know to trust you? You turn the roads, we have walked here for nearly an hour and haven't gotten any closer to the castle. I know you can keep me and Omari here if this is what you want, but why should I deliver my other children to you? What will I wish them away to?"

Before Jareth had a chance to answer her, the sparrowhawk flew from the tree and shifted to his human shape next Jareth. "But you don't understand," Toby said, unable to contain himself, and leaned towards the girl earnestly. With a sigh, Jareth looked at the young man and with a flick of his wrist was back in his usual outfit of tight breeches, leather boots and a loose shirt. He moved back to the edge of the fountain and sat down next to the kushtaka Daxkei'x, sharing a grin with the woman. Nothing could stop the actions of heartfelt conviction of the young, so better go along with it.

"I was like Omari," Toby told the spellbound girl. "My sister Sarah had wished me away when I was just a baby and like you, she ran for my freedom. She won. You see, Jareth does not steal children, he saves them."

Jareth grimaced. Ah, to be so young and dumb again. He could practically feel Daxkei'x highly entertained grin. Now there was a story all the magic in the world would not be able to suppress. Toby made him look like a wimp.

"The runners are not tricked, they learn the lessons they need when they run the labyrinth, and the goblin king only keeps those children who were truly wished away, you know, the children that are not wanted. He never takes the children that are wanted."

"But you are here, so he did keep you," Makemba said, finding the weak point of his story immediately.

"Sarah won me back and took me home. He did not keep me. But when I was nine, a man dragged me into his car as I was walking home," Toby said with a voice like lead. "I was so afraid, I was crying and fighting, but he just laughed and hit me hard until I was to dazed to fight anymore. I don't know where we went, but eventually he carried me out of the car and brought me into a small room with only a bed. I was so afraid, I could not even stand up any more, I was cowering in a corner. I was a kid, but I was not dumb. I knew what would happen. I kept telling him that my dad, or my sister, or somebody would come and save me. I got more and more terrified as he started to undo his belt and pants." Makemba was ashen as she put her hand haltingly on Toby's arm. He smiled at the girl, looking haunted. "Sarah had told me stories of the underground when I grew up, and I could not even think straight any more when that man walked up to me, half naked, and I screamed the first thing that came to my mind, something along the lines of 'I wish the goblin king took me away and saved me and that he would punish you', not quite these words, but definitely the spirit. Well, he did. And you know, Jareth did not have to come, he came because he wanted to help me. Now, I had phrased my wish in a way that I couldn't go back, and so I stayed here. Jareth gave me parents who loved me, he gave me a home, he gave me a life that I would not have had any more in the above," and Toby ran out of words. One glance at the girl convinced Jareth that the young man's heartfelt words had won the girl over.

"But why do I have to wish my other children here?" Makemba slightly stressed the word children.

With a flourish Jareth decided to re-join the conversation. "As you quite correctly observed, I can keep you and Omari as I please, but Eshe and Tumelo are above. My power does not extend into the human world unless I am called to it. I have not been called for them, so you have to wish them to me. Yet once you loose the race for Omari to me, you belong to the goblin kingdom by the rules of magic. And then you cannot call for them any longer, since you do not belong to the above any more. Yet at present, you are still a human from the above, but a visitor to the underground, and your words have power. If you wish the children to join you, I can bring them here, but not otherwise."

With a determined face Makemba grabbed his arm. "Swear to me that you mean my children no harm, that you will take care of them the same way the young man said."

"Tell me, child, do you not have a wish for yourself?" Jareth smiled down at here as he loosened her death grip on his arm. At his questioning glance Daxkei'x moved to stand to the right of the girl and Toby to her left. Jareth took a step back and bowed deeply before Makemba's. He pushed up the silken sleeves of his shirt and extended his right hand palm up. A swift movement of his other hand, and magic slashed a deep cut in his right hand, blood of the brightest scarlet like heart-blood welled up and quickly overflowed the cup of his palm, dripping to the ground. "I call on the magic of the underground to bind me by my blood to my promise to the human girl Makemba Ngouabi. The kushtaka lady Daxkei'x of the Teikweidi stands as the human's witness as the fae lord Tobias O hEachtianna stands as mine." All sound around them had died, they stood enclosed in a circle of stillness. Where Jareth' blood mingled with the dust on the ground, small grayish-green leaves began to unfurl on the earth.

"I, Jareth ap Cethur Mc Greine, chosen of the labyrinth, king to the goblin kingdom, swear on my name and on my blood that no harm shall come to Makemba and her kin by my commission or omission. I cannot promise happiness, for it is not in my power to bestow such a gift, but all of them will ever have the right to call the goblin kingdom home, and they shall never lack a roof on their head, a bed to sleep in, food on the table and companionship. I swear that should it be necessary I shall defend their lives and extend my protection to them as if they were my own kin."

Daxkei'x and Toby looked at each other with a stunned face. The king had extended the fullest possible hospitality to the girl and her family. Before either of them could say anything, Jareth folded his hand over the cut and opened it again to show a perfectly healed palm. He grinned at the girl impishly and asked with some exasperation in his voice: "I hope this suffices, for I do not know how else I could convince you that I mean you no harm. So, are you going to wish your siblings to join you? I believe at this point Omari has managed to wreck sufficient havoc among my goblins that they wish to return him to his mother as quickly as possible."

Makemba smiled at him for the first time, shyly, and then looked embarrassed to the ground. Her eyes widened in surprise as she beheld the lovely plant that had grown where Jareth's blood had wetted the dust. Seven to eight knee high tubular leaves grew from the ground, shaped like a rolled-up paper cones in the palest silvery green, patterned in a lovely blood-red mosaic styled outline. The opening of the cone-leaves was covered with overhanging leaves in pale greenish silver. From the middle of the leaf clump grew a single long-stemmed flower a good two hand-spans over the leaves, stunningly intricate and created of multiple whorled petals, blood red with a silvery-white edge to each flower leaf. It was probably just as well that she did not recognize it for the carnivorous plant it was, yet it was an apt flowering of the goblin king's blood - beautiful yet dangerous. Nothing is what it seems indeed.

"I wish the adza brought my children to me right now," Makemba said, eyes pressed shut and her body tight as a whip. The sudden delighted shriek of Omari at the sight of his mother made her open her eyes to see the little boy straining to escape from the determined grip of a goatish looking creature that didn't really seem like a nasty adza but rather something else, not evil but only wild and mischievous. Even as she ran to pick up her boy she noticed that Omari was not afraid of his minder and had been held tightly but gently. She smiled at the ...goblin? Not adza then, goblin. Part of her home now. She twirled with the boy in her arms and just managed to see some other ... goblins appear in the town square with Eshe and Tumelo in their arms, the children too sleepy and surprised to show any fear at all. As the young girl kneeled on the ground, holding her children in a tight embrace, she looked up at the goblin king with a smile much older than her years. "Thank you, my lord. I am in your debt forever."

* * *

In much less time than could have been expected Jareth had managed to organize the little party, ruthlessly roping in Toby and Daxkei'x as nursemaids to two tired, overwrought and utterly charmed and transfixed children that could not keep their hands off their minder's hair, and transporting the little group to the fae clan he intended Makemba and her kin to be adopted into. He knew the horse clan close to the kushtaka territory would be a perfect fit for a half-grown girl used to being on her own. While none of the puka clan would begrudge her either her independence nor the responsibilities and rights she had earned in her short life, she would also learn that she was not alone, and that there were loving hands willing to share her work, and loving hearts wanting to share her worries and burdens. She could finally learn that she belonged, and did not need to stand alone against the world any more. It took a good few hours before Jareth and Toby were able to disentangle themselves from the ecstatic puka clan which was beyond overjoyed that their king had blessed them with not one but four children to take in. The puka had never spent much time at court, but Jareth knew them well, as he did all of his subjects, one of the advantages of near immortality. They would be good for Makemba and hers, and they for them. He did not care for else.

* * *

/

* * *

It was but a short hour before sunset when Jareth finally was able to leave Makemba's new home with Toby. His magic transported them to the other side of the goblin kingdom, the Simien mountains red as blood in the evening sun, the small valley they stood in still bathed in light. It was a beautiful spot, water gushing down the mountain side falling merrily over rock outcrops and finally into a small lake at the bottom. The air was heavy with the sweet scent of spring flowers and the lazy sounds of a breeze whispered through the crowns of the sanctuary trees. The many-eyed guardian creepers grew abundantly on the rocks, along the water's edge and up the broad trunks of the sanctuary trees themselves, ever watchful, ensuring that the labyrinth's peace was held in the sanctuary as decreed by the goblin king's laws.

Toby looked around in awe. "The sanctuary trees are huge here, much bigger than in the hedge maze," he wondered out loud. "I guess they need to be taller here so any wanderer looking for a safe night's sleep can find the sanctuaries. You know, Jareth, I have never been in the Simien mountains? It is beautiful - I never knew that the rock is blue. I somehow always assumed that the blue hue to the distant mountains was just a distortion of the color over the distance. Mountains in the above don't look like this. Are those moon-tears at the edge of the water?" He walked to the lake and kneeled at the edge of the water, his hands gently moving over the dense carpet of moon-tears growing in the mist of the falling water, the flower buds still closed in the daylight, waiting for darkness to open their petals to the moon.

As he turned back, he saw Jareth in the full goblin king regalia, dressed in night, beautiful and dangerous. He wore long boots of finest dragon leather over his narrow black breeches, a cuirass of black leather intricately worked by skilled gnome craftsmen, his medallion set over the heart, over the finest blue-black chain mail created of countless rings of cobalt, worked with magic to protect the labyrinth's chosen. His hands encased in black leather gloves, he was dark as a nightmare but for his pale face and the silver-white hair standing on edge with wild magic. Carelessly over his shoulders hung a high-necked cloak of silver-black spider silk, catching the slightest breeze to billow up like gigantic bat wings around him. "This is the last chance to have to change your mind, Tobias," Jareth's voice resonated with power. "Once you swear the oath of fealty to me and the Labyrinth, there is no going back. You will never be free of your oath, and there are places in the underground where you may never go because they do not welcome the citizens of the goblin kingdom. And as you said yourself, war is coming. If not now, then in the future. Swearing the blood oath may cost your freedom as you do my bidding, it may cost your peace of mind as you do things that you will never be able to forget, it may cost your immortal life which could last forever. Is this truly what you want?"

Toby swallowed as he walked up to the goblin king. He took his dagger from his belt, cut deeply over his palm and dropped to his knees, head bowed low. He did not know where the words came from, but he felt their truth in his heart, and lifting his glowing face to the goblin king he spoke them out loud as his blood fell to the ground.

"Here in labyrinth's sanctuary do I swear by blood and name and honor,  
Fealty and service to the Crown and the Labyrinth.  
To speak and to act,  
To come and to go,  
To serve and to obey,  
In all such matters that concern this realm,  
As requested by my liege;  
In need or in plenty,  
In peace or in war,  
In living or in dying,  
Until my liege depart the throne,  
Death take me,  
Or the world end.  
So say I, Tobias o hEachtianna, on my blood, my name and my honor."

As he finished, he saw for a moment the joyful expression on Jareth's face before his mind was overcome by a touch too alien and powerful to understand or resist, and he fell over in a dead faint.

* * *

He came to an unfathomable time later to a full moon in the sky and an unearthly magical choir filling his ears. He sat up groggily from a warm blanket and saw Jareth, once again in his usual clothes and wearing a warm leather jacket against the night's chill. He was leaning against one of the sanctuary trees, his long legs stretched towards the crackling fire over which a hare was roasting, Etain curled at his side, having found her master with unerring sense and speed. A dire wolf was lying at his other side, head resting on the king's legs, its ferociousness stilled. Several pixies huddled around the fire and other creatures of the labyrinth were lurking in the shadows, a bean sidhe in her hag form at the edge of the fire's circle of light and several trolls dimly outlined further back. They were all enthralled by the magic woven by the voices of the moon tears and the goblin king, a song of love and belonging that included all creatures of the labyrinth. No other sound could be heard until the song ended.

"Back to the living, I see. I did not realize that the touch of the labyrinth would be so hard on you, young Tobias. I fear there was nothing to be done but wait until you would wake up on your own. I suspect you will be hungry, though," and leaning forward Jareth took the spitted hare off the fire and cut it with his dagger, putting a leg on a piece of bread which he handed to Toby. "My lady Blathnaid," Jareth bowed his head courteously towards the bean sidhe at the edge of the circle of light, "we would be honored if you would do us the great favor to sing for us. Your people are famous for your skill, and I am sure Tobias has never heard one of you sing." So the bean sidhe sang for them, and while Toby was grateful that it was not a lament, he was too busy devouring the hare to really care. Yet finally his hunger was satisfied and allowed him to listen to her, and he got up and bowed to the bean sidhe at the end of her song.

"I have never heard the song of the bean sidhe before, lady Blathnaid, but I will forever naysay those who try to tell me that you wail death, my lady. I know now it is envy that gave birth to these rumors, for your voice heralds sweetness and light," he smiled at the surprised woman who changed from hag to a lovely old woman in a heartbeat.

"I thank you, my lord Tobias, also in the name of my sisters," she smiled at him. "But do not judge those who fear us too harshly. We but give notice of death, we do not cause it, yet how can you blame those who learn from us that one they loved has died? Their pain lashes out, and we do not hold it against them. But I bid you good-night, young lord, " and she turned to Jareth in a deep curtsy, "and I thank you, my king, for sharing your song. Until we meet again, my lord." And with these words she vanished in the darkness.

"Come to the fire, Tobias, I believe you must have questions for me," Jareth's voice drew Toby to the fire, where he sat down next to the direwolf who lifted his head from Jareth's legs and gave him a wolf's grin. The huge creature stretched and put his head on Toby's legs, who looked at him with some trepidation and very carefully began to stroke the direwolf's head. "Why doesn't anybody know about the labyrinth? I mean, wouldn't we be much safer if the fae learned once and for all that none of them stands a chance to become king of the labyrinth by stealth or by force? You would no longer have to fight off the constant attempts for you power and your life once they understood that they can never fight you and the labyrinth."

"Ah, but they would never believe this, Tobias. Remember, I have lived for countless millennia and am not considered old by the standards of the fae yet I have seen what drives those of us who harbor ambition. I have perceived the world through their eyes once, so you will have to believe me that your conclusions are not the ones most fae would come up with. What you saw and know to be true is that the labyrinth choose me, not for its ruler but its companion. The labyrinth's magic is much stronger than any fae's power has ever been or will be, yet it utterly lacks ambition. It will not use its magic for its own gain but freely share it with its chosen, but yet it knows that its chosen will not use its magic for conquest either, because it would never choose anyone who desires absolute domination. I am the labyrinth, and the labyrinth is me. I am not truly fae any more. Now tell me Tobias, you have been at the court of Danu, and I have made sure you have visited many other courts, what have you seen that makes you think that we fae put value in beings other than ourselves? You know how too many fae look down on the other races; they use dwarfs as if they were but indentured laborers; they rely on brownies to keep their accommodations, clothes and food yet treat those very brownies as if they owe them gratitude for being allowed to serve them. They hunt trolls, hags, dragons or alraunes as if they were senseless animals, they incarcerate and exhibit as curiosities the lamia, the griffin or the centaurs, they send away in disgrace those who dare to love outside their kind."

Toby winced, while he did not like to think of it, Jareth was right. Even at the court of Danu, where he had felt at home and at peace, the fae had ruled supreme. Tiernan had been close to his dwarf guard, cared for him truly, yet it was the emotion we bear to a beloved pet, valued, often higher than others of our kind, but still inferior to us. Queen Eriu and king Cethur were beloved by everyone at court and treated everyone courteously and with care, but none but fae held any position of responsibility at all. The attitude towards the non-fae kindreds in Danu was that of a responsible parent to their young and irresponsible children, full of the conviction that they were not able to take care of themselves. And Danu was a good place to be for those not fae. Other places were not. In many fae demesnes Toby had visited other kindreds were really no more than servants without rights.

"Do you truly believe that those who look down on any but fae would see the labyrinth as anything more than a magical horse they could break and control? Too many of us believe that they are superior to all, no creature as the labyrinth could resist them. Do not the very races we often enough mistreat admire us? Does our charm not seduce even those who have reason to loath us? Lleu king of Ardar Iforas will never believe he could not charm the labyrinth into giving him its power if he had a chance to do so. The labyrinth and I want the fae to believe I am the most powerful opponent they ever had, on my own against them, and those who want to rule the goblin kingdom will be jealous but afraid. If they thought that my power came from the labyrinth, they would try out unexpected and unheard-off tactics, and they might well resort to dark sorcery to weaken the labyrinth to further their cases. I would find it much harder to predict their actions if they knew the truth." Jareth smiled at the expression on Toby's face. "And even if you will not believe me, Tobias, consider this: Since the first goblin king was chosen by the Labyrinth, through all the rulers that followed, none have broken the silence on the nature of the bond of the goblin king and the labyrinth. Many great fae have been in my position, and decided that silence is the prudent course. Even I lack the arrogance to consider my opinion superior to that of the wise and ancient fae that superseded me as the chosen of the labyrinth."

It was an argument Toby could not ignore as he lacked arrogance and understood that there was much he did not understand yet. But his first question answered, he inquired about many more questions his binding to the labyrinth and its king had engendered. Jareth conjured ale for them to keep warm and for hours patiently answered the young man's questions, Etain asleep next to him as the direwolf next to Toby, their conversation accompanied by the peaceful choir of the moon tears.

"It is enough, Tobias," Jareth finally declared. "It is but a few hours to sunrise, and I will need to be on my way early. This is what I need you to do." The goblin king looked at the young fae, brow furrowed in concentration. "I will be talking to the elders of the dwarf councils tomorrow, and I know I will learn all they can tell me. I am afraid it will not be what I truly need to know, however. You have an easy way with all kindreds, you even like my goblins. Hrafn Gunnlaugsson with whom you stole apples from my gardens has been entertaining the young people at court for years with stories of your adventures, I was always pleased to know you kept close to your childhood friends. You like people, and they tend to like you too. It does not surprise me, who dislikes a puppy?" With a grin Jareth looked Toby over. "I want you to go to the towns of Kuhmo, Joensuu and Rovaniemi, up in the mountains. Many dwarf women and children have come here for succor in the recent past, and simply I want you to talk to people. Find out what they ran from. Listen to their gossip about home - does Lleu have a new lover? A new toy? I want the stories that the refugees would not tell the elders because they do not believe them important, but the stories they tell to each other and their friends. What do they think that Lleu is up to?" A turn of his wrist, and he held out a leather bag heavy with coin. "I know this is a vague assignment, but I do not know the threat we face, and my goblins cannot gather information in the Simien mountains. I rely on you. If you need to contact me urgently, go to a sanctuary and spill a little of your blood on your ground, a few drops will suffice. I will come to you as quickly as possible."

Jareth banked the fire with a few words of power, laid down on the ground and wound his blanket around him. He seemed asleep in a moment. As Toby followed his example, he felt the warm body of the direwolf press against him. Though he had been sure he wouldn't be able to go to sleep, his breathing was deep and regular in seconds.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter V**

As always when a deadline was approaching and she did not know how to decide, Sarah kept busy. It had been a bit of luck that old Johnston had asked her if she could vaccinate his flock, since both Three and Shuck were always welcome to run with their sheepdogs, so at least her dogs were having a good time. And she was too busy with the sheep to beat herself up about what to do. Only it did not work. Sarah sighed. She could vaccinate the whole flock in her sleep, the sheep weren't even nervous and she knew she would be done in two hours the most. And then she would worry her looming decisions again, like an old bone. Her life was better than many, she had a job she loved, good friends and good times, and she knew that if she choose the labyrinth, she would at best get exactly the same - work and people she loved, a life she enjoyed. Why then did the entreaties of the labyrinth draw her so?

Sarah was not a woman given to lying to herself, she knew that the promise of magic and the impossible truth of the underground drew her. Yet she was old enough to understand that even the miraculous can become commonplace, and that duty and responsibility carry the same weight in a mundane reality as in a magical one. What called to her was not the glamor of magic, it was the labyrinth, it was as easy as that. Every night, as she dreamed of landscapes and creatures she had never imagined in her life, her self was enveloped in love and hope by a being so strange that she could not truly grasp it, yet it filled the void in her heart that had been part of her ever since Karen had died. Sarah had never loved a man as much as she had loved her family, and she had grown as close to Karen as a daughter may to her mother if they are lucky. The loss of first Toby and a few years later of her father had brought them even closer. Sarah had found strength and courage in the unshakable belief Karen had had in her abilities and achievements as in the encouragement she would give, as Karen had found belonging in Sarah's love and was engaged and appreciated in the large circle of friends that Sarah seemed to acquire wherever she went. At the end, Sarah was able to take care of Karen in the last short months of life her mother had from the diagnosis of cancer and death, even though her training was for animal medicine. She knew that with Karen's death she would truly be alone, and with her mother she buried the last vestiges of her childhood and youth. Afterward she never again let her guard down completely and never fully relaxed in anybody's embrace, as safe and taken care of as a child. She had learned to deal with the loneliness that is part and parcel of humanity and even accept it. And now, in middle age, against all odds, against the constraints of reality, she had again found the unthinking love and trust of childhood in the touch of the labyrinth in her mind. The knowledge that this touch could be her constant companion for the rest of her life was a powerful inducement. She would never be lonely again but held in love all her days. Which could however be a lot shorter than she might wish for. The nightly visitations of the last year were nightmares at times as much as dreams, and Sarah knew that she would be going into a dangerous future, war looming, in a world full of creatures she could not even begin to understand and conflicts outside any human experience to deal with. She would be leaving, without guarantees of happiness. But then again, when do humans ever get any guarantees?

* * *

/

* * *

As Sarah cleared the dinner table, she smiled at Eek over her shoulder: "Let's talk, Eek, I'll have a glass of wine. How about some hot chocolate for you?" The little goblin had spend the evening with Sarah, as he had done for most evenings in the last year. She had found that cooking was a lot more fun when you have someone to share your dinner with, and if Eek's table manners left something to be desired, his stories of the underground did not. Over time Eek with his upbeat swagger and mischievous innocence had become a true friend.

Sarah could not know that Eek's increasingly helpful and mature companionship had come to pass by his becoming - he had bound to her, against all odds, as goblins only ever bound to the chosen king or queen. Yet all the time that Eek had spent with Sarah she had not been chosen, but his love and devotion had first brought her to the labyrinth's attention. The labyrinth had found itself swiftly drawn to Sarah's bright, adventurous spirit, her curious mind and her vivid imagination, very different from that of the denizens of the underground, and both her stubbornness as her well-developed mean streak when it came to defending her own were a definite bonus. A good goblin queen had to be obdurate and cruel at times, it came with the territory. So the labyrinth set out to seduce the human woman to come home to the underground as its goblin queen, and it was willing to do just about anything to achieve its purpose. It loved her already, and its desire to have them bound to each other was absolute.

Sarah had found that while her dreams imparted to her the big picture of the underground and let her walk freely in the mind of the labyrinth and share in its musings, she could not communicate very efficiently with it yet, the simple give and take of questions and answers was beyond her ken. Eek had proven an invaluable guide through her maze of questions. Even fully become he was part of the labyrinth, yet like Sarah his physical presence was small and insignificant as compared to the labyrinth, which allowed him to understand her worries and questions in a way the labyrinth could not.

"Can I ever come back to the above unless I am called, just for a visit? It seems responding to a wish is the only time the goblin king comes here," she looked questioningly at Eek as she handed him his mug of hot chocolate.

"You is goblin queen," the little goblin stated as he was puffing on the cup to cool it down enough to take a sip. In Eek's mind there was no question at all. His Sarra was queen, and of course she'd come home with him. It was just that she wanted some more answers, which he was happy to supply. So she needed some more time, well, what did time matter? "You has labyrinth magic, and control of time belong to labyrinth. Time in underground is different from time in above, any chosen need time magic to come to get runners and wished-away." Sarah made a face. She was always a bit embarrassed when it came talking about wishing away as she did not feel she'd cut a very good figure.

"But you say that time passes differently here and in the underground. By the time I'd learned to control the time magic, everybody I love here is likely dead. All the stories tell of visitors to faerie who spend a year there only to find a hundred years passed when they came back. That is not exactly what I am looking for." Sarah was discouraged. She did want to go, but how could she give up everything she had ever loved without a second glance?

Eek looked at her with surprise. "No matter how long you is underground, you can go anywhen you wants. Time in Underground is no like time above. Little time after you run labyrinth other boy loose run for wished-away sister, nasty boy he was, nasty. Boy and girl born long before the white christ came. Goblin king and queen can go to anywhen above."

Sarah swallowed. Whom was she kidding? She had no idea what she might be facing, and she had the suspicion that her ignorance was bottomless. Nothing in her life had prepared her for even asking the right questions, let alone deal with the possible fallout of her ignorance. As she considered her possible future in the underground, she was gripped by a sudden paralyzing fear that she was not up to what the labyrinth was offering, that she would mess up and cause some serious damage. She could not bear the thought of causing the labyrinth damage, yet as she was about to reject the whole notion she suddenly felt herself enveloped in warmth, in love and acceptance, and she knew without a doubt that **Sarah will never hurt me, together we can face anything, Sarah is brilliant and will learn all she needs quickly, I need Sarah, I love her, she is wonderful and will be doing great, do not fear, you will never be alone. **

She shook her head as she felt tears roll down her cheeks, and found Eek sitting on her lap looking into her face anxiously, sqeeking: "Sarra is good queen, Sarra learn all she need, Eek always help, no worry, Eek know all goblins and all labyrinth, can show Sarra all she need know, please?"

Looking at the little goblin's worried face, Sarah made up her mind. Yes, she was ignorant, she knew too little about the underground and its denizens or about magic, but she was determined, she could learn, and as far as she understood she had all the time in the world to learn it. She knew that she perhaps was not the best choice for a goblin queen, but she was the one the labyrinth wanted. And she wanted to go to the labyrinth, wanted to belong and love it. She already loved the goblins, not just Eek, but also the other ones that came to her, all of whom seemed to care for her as much as she did for them. She did not mind they were silly, uncouth and a lot of work, they were also endless sources of wonderful stories, endless entertainment to watch as they were snooping through her belongings and bright-eyed rascals that brought her strange and often awful little presents: she enjoyed their company. She just needed to figure out how to go about learning the ropes of a goblin queen without causing too much damage. Sarah grinned. Well, perhaps it didn't really matter, after all, goblin queen and damage were not words that could not appear in the same sentence, now did they?


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI**

Jareth was in a foul mood. He was pacing the goblin throne room, kicking the occasional tardy goblin out of his way, which did wonders to relieve his tension. As far as he was concerned, it was a win-win situation all around, since the goblins were practically indestructible he did not have to worry about hurting them, and kicking them made him feel somewhat better even though they were not the wished-for target of his anger. What he really wanted was a confrontation with Lleu king of Ardar Iforas. When he felt the urgent call of the labyrinth in his mind, he moved to the window with a hiss and threw himself out, turning into his familiar barn owl shape in a heartbeat. Yet even the flight did not ease his fury and tension as it usually did. The situation was getting worse at the winter border, Lleu was forcing out the last of his dwarves, and in terror and despair those who could fled into the goblin kingdom, to their kin in the Simien mountains, ragged, hopeless and brutalized. Inexplicably and against all sanity Lleu had begun to put pressure on other kindreds in his kingdom as well; as time passed more and more of the denizens of Ardar Iforas left, and not all of them of the persecuted kindreds. Fae might be narrow-minded and bigoted, but mindless slaughter and torture had never been their way. In a world where children of all races were rare and cherished, the killing of any young ones was well-neigh unforgivable. Jareth felt a shiver ruffle his feathers. Lleu had always been an ambitious bastard, but he had always been cunning and an excellent strategist. He had no compunctions about violence, as long as he did not have do his own dirty work, but he had never shown hatred of other kindreds, and he had never acted without a plan. Yet now, Lleu's actions made no sense. He achieved nothing by his actions but headaches further down the road. Who would mine the ore in Ardar Iforas once the dwarves were gone, and who could work the metal? Unrest was brewing on the other side of the winter borders, but Jareth knew the inbred caution of the fae and their tendency to take their time about all actions meant that he could not expect any changes in Ardar Iforas to develop fast enough for his liking. Much as he hoped that some enterprising fae would go ahead and usurp Lleu's throne already - night, he was willing to give a generous helping hand with barely any prompting at all -, uncertainty was clouding the future. Yet the threat was much bigger.

Evil was touching the goblin kingdom from all sides.

Here on the winter borders Babdh crossed over into the labyrinth, never long within its borders, yet her much-too-frequent sojourns set his temper on edge. By the time the labyrinth could pinpoint her presence and Jareth arrived ready for fight, she had vanished again with her red-beaked crows, the lingering memory of her presence befouling the land and the air, the pitiful torn remains of her prey strewn about carelessly in nightmare scenarios. And never did she hunt any sworn to the labyrinth, only the refugees hoping to reach the safety of the mountains as if she knew that there was no safety for her if she ever touched any of the labyrinth's blood-bound.

Turning himself back from his owl shape Jareth looked over the grim scene before his eyes as he went down on a knee to hug Etain close to him. As always she had been waiting for him at the crossroads in the borderlands, fast as the wind herself and guided and availed of the labyrinth's magic she always anticipated his arrival wherever he went, assaying the scents on the air and the lay of the land, prepared to protect her master. He leaned back dispiritedly against the crossroad marker, Etain huddling close to him, the thick leather jacket closed against the snow winds that blew needles of ice over the desolate road. Etain pushed her body as close to his chest as possible, the stench of terror and blood piercing her nose and the memory of screaming echoing in her ears as was the ability of the Cwn Annwyn. Had Jareth set her to find the perpetrators of this abomination, she would have led him on to the end of the world to find those responsible, but he did not need the hounds of Annwyn to know who they were. His face starkly beautiful, harsh and as immobile as an ice carving, he beheld the carnage. The little group that had fallen into Babdh's vicious claws had been less than a furlong from a sanctuary grove, they had died in screaming distance of the tall sanctuary trees. Dwarves, one warrior, four women and a child. If he counted the limbs right. He did not know what Babdh had done to her unfortunate victims, and he did not care to know. He only wanted to get his hands on her. With a violent twist of his hand he conjured several crystals and hurled them at the sickening remains. They touched upon the bloodied snow without a sound and broke into a silvery shower of light which quickly spread over the ground, mercifully covering all the signs of what had happened under a pale glow. When the light died down, the untouched snow showed no sign of the outrage that had been committed. "You shall be avenged," Jareth said quietly into the frozen air. "I swear on your deaths that the abomination who has done this to you shall pay the price in full."

And evil was touching the goblin kingdom from all sides.

Jareth stood in the shallow waters close to the banks of the Haliakmon, in his arms the pitiful body of a slight shedim boy, the grey feathers plucked from the small body, the clawed feet hacked off and the mouth open in a silent scream, filled with metal that had been poured in red-hot. From the Plains of Ashes, a wild, untamable expanse of grassland not yet dried to cinders in this cycle, the Haliakmon flowed unfettered into the goblin kingdom. And for months now, the Haliakmon had carried in its gentle arms the dead bodies of the shedim from the mists down to the mouth of the sea. The shedim were a reclusive kindred, feared and loathed among the peoples of the underground as the touch of their voices caused any hapless listener to fall in to a maniacal, violent fugue that they would come out of only hours later. Oftentimes they found that their doings in the fugue were vile and unspeakable beyond imagination, leaving death, horror and destruction in their path. Thus the shedim had been hated, shunned and hunted in the underground since times immemorial. Jareth was immune to the shedim's voices, which he had found out quite by accident as he had certainly never intended to come into listening distance in the first place when he had happened on them during one of his explorations of all corners of the labyrinth. Once he fully comprehended that the Shedim posed no danger to him, he had quickly found that they were a gentle people without guile or evil. Yet their un-pleasing appearance and the terrible aftermath of all contact with their voices had condemned them to a marginal existence in constant danger, which they considered but the rightful punishment for the results of their songs, however unintended. Jareth and the labyrinth had offered them a safe haven in the mists where none other dared to live as the mists were the borderlands of reality. Reality being an uncertain concept to the Shedim in the first place, they were at peace for the first time since their voices had been heard in the underground. For many great years they had lived their lives in dreamsong in the mists, sworn to the labyrinth and prospering, but now an unknown enemy was stalking and killing them, inexplicably and without a trace. Jareth turned back softly towards the river banks. He carried the still body of the young shedim boy to the banks and gently lowered it to the ground. The selkies, who had called to him when the body had floated by, stood in a semicircle around him, horrified at the fate of a young boy even if he was shedim. As they looked on, the king raised his voice in song, singing a shedim lament for the child that had gone to the other side of night. For the first time since the beginning of time, a shedim dreamsong was heard by creatures of the underground other than the labyrinth and the chosen. Since Jareth was not shedim, his voice could not cause the fugue, and the selkies cried at the unmitigated pain of the lament. As the powerful magic of the lament for the dead washed over his listeners, the still body of the child began to shimmer and loose definition at the edges, slowly dissolving into pale light that finally died, leaving behind nothing but memory. The killings of the shedim weighing heavily on his mind, Jareth was incandescent with fury.

* * *

/

* * *

"He has a new lover," Toby said, paler and thinner than when they had met last time, crouched tiredly on the steps before the throne. "Aylmer. He's nice enough, friendly, personable, doesn't seem to abuse his position to his advantage as everyone at Lleu's court in Tahat had been expecting. But he is slippery as a fish though I can't really say anything bad. Just that he gives me the creeps." Cuchulain was asleep at his feet, the direwolf had succumbed to exhaustion the moment they had sat down. Toby just wished he could join him. Ever since the night Toby had pledged his oath to the labyrinth, the direwolf had decided to accompany the young fae and now one could not be found without the other.

Jareth sat on the edge of his seat, elbows on his knees and juggling some crystals between his fingers without pause, coiled with tension, Etain at his feet keeping a good eye on the direwolf. Sed, the captain of his guard, stood alert and clear-eyed at his king's side as he had done ever faithfully since he had bound himself to Jareth, the first goblin to do so when the labyrinth had chosen its new king. He unobtrusively checked the entrances to the goblin throne room, carefully guarded by the king's personal guards who stood attentively and kept an alert eye on the doors. For the crowd inside the room needed no watching. All the many goblins in attendance were fully become, not controlled by their unfathomable impulses or the wild magic they were created from, and each of them would fight to the death to defend their king.

Porr paced restlessly back and forth on the stone pavers before the throne, occasionally stealing a guarded glance at the lady Sindri. The dwarfism lady sat decorously on a chair close to Jareth's throne that the chancellor had thoughtfully brought for her to sit in, calm and composed to all outward appearances but for her hands' birdlike, restless movements, picking apart her kerchief of finest linen. The bookish lady Sindri was the last person anyone might have expected to encounter at the king's war council, a quiet lady of the court, unassuming, reticent, without airs, graces or beauty, only her sparkling eyes and rich voice hinting at a depth the eye could not discern. Yet the lady Sindri was one of Jareth's most valued advisers, a mind as sharp as the edge of broken glass and the most prodigious strategist in the underground. Jareth understood well his own shortcomings, and while he could hold his own against anyone in battle and was an excellent tactical leader, he knew he couldn't hold a candle to her ability to develop an overarching strategy. This she had proven time and again in the past, and Jareth thought grimly that her skills seemed likely come in handy in the near future.

Lord Ningyo, formerly of the Maighdean-mhara, had joined them at Jareth's request, ramrod straight and ill-at-ease. Ningyo had too sharp and military a mind not to be called to a war-council like this, having won the final victory in the drawn-out war of the Maighdean-mhara against the Uncegila whom some called the Leviathan, when the struggle had seemed inevitable to come down most unfavorable for the children of Llyr. He was but recently blood-bound to the labyrinth, having fallen into his oath drawn by the love of a spirited odei who could not consider joining him in the sea, for what happiness could a storm-bound sprite find under the waves? He had thought himself hardened by countless loves in countless millennia, only to find himself unable to take his leave of 'Lo lani or to imagine any future without her. Sao Llyr, ever a ruler with foresight, had graciously agreed to release his sister-son from his service, his only condition Jareth's oath to leave the sea's secrets rest quietly in his newest subjects mind, an oath given without reservation or hesitation.

As Toby was recounting his observations from his extended visit in Ardar Iforas, the door to the throne room was pushed open by an ample behind and a small, brown woman turned her squat body sideways through the door, moving carefully as her hands were occupied by a heavy tablet she carried. One glance, and the goblin guard at the door took barely a heartbeat to hold the door wide open for her and her goblin helpers behind her. Ikiaq was a haltija, more commonly called brownies, from the tulen väki, the fire clan. She had chosen her life's work in the running of the royal household, putting her fire to good use. First she had been apprenticed to her uncle, who oversaw the household of the Ard Ri, and much later she decided to move with her family to the goblin kingdom, to go and keep her eyes on her milk-son Jareth whom she knew from exhausting experience to be in desperate need of a little oversight.

"You are dead on your feet, Toby," the tidy little woman walked up to the steps the young fae was sitting on and moved the immediately alert direwolf out of her way with nothing more than a sharp look and a short word. She made Toby grab a streaming mug of lapis-colored larak and a sandwich off the tray. "You need something to eat, boy, and it looks like it has been a while since anyone fed you properly. I'll get you some real food later, but this should tide you over." She moved around the council as her helpers did among the goblins, and with a few more admonitions she had made sure everyone had a cup of larak in their hand to wake them up and keep them sharp, and some food in the other hand to keep them calm. A short check of the room assured her everyone had received some sustenance, and her helpers were mingling with their brethren happily, food and drink in their hands if usually more than they had handed out to the others.

Jareth grinned at his milk-mother with affection, a look she returned with a smile of her own. She made it seem easy, everything just happened they way things should with nary a hitch anywhere. He knew that but few appreciated the skills necessary to run a court smoothly, distributing and overseeing the work of several hundred people catering to several hundred more courtiers and ambassadors of many different kindreds without a hitch, organizing the acquisition, storage and preparation of food, clothes, supplies, cleanliness, just about anything that made life civilized, and keeping everybody in the process happy. Ikiaq did it without noticeable effort, her work was invisible. The goblin kingdom had to be the only place where goblins willingly, happily and productively worked in the kitchens and stables of a court, appreciated, valued and useful. No war council was ever complete without the castellaine Ikiaq, for she had the pragmatic ability to see through the why to the how. She used magic every day and more than most understood its uses and shortcomings, and her clear-eyed, matter-of-fact approach had more than once cut through the fog created by the endless possibilities of a future influenced by magic - the fancier magic got, the harder it was to sustain. The best way to get something done reliably was usually the most straightforward way, and generally unmagical. And as experience had proved, the easiest, most likely approach tended to be the one that was taken even by magical kindreds.

The food and the hot larak calmed everyone down, and the war council continued in earnest. "When did Aylmer first come to Ardar Iforas?" Sindri asked the young man, who was feeding the remains of his sandwich to Cuchulain.

"Aylmer is footloose, a wanderer like Jareth before he came to the labyrinth. He is very close-mouthed, nobody knows where he is from, or who his family is, but to tell from his stories he has spend good time at many courts all over the underground. I understand he has been visiting Ardar Iforas often, not only the court in Tahat, but wandering the whole country. Some of the courtiers have known him for countless great years, but he never stays more than a few short years and is gone again for centuries. It is only in the last few hundred years that Aylmer came often, and he and Lleu became lovers only in the last few decades. I heard him tell of the court of Danu, and I am confident that he has truly been there, for he knows the soul of Danu. As far as I can tell from my own limited experience at other courts, I believe that the knowledge he exhibits stems from personal experience as well." Toby knit his brow in deep concentration. "There are rumors at Lleu's court that he was banished from his demesne for some unnamed trespass, but nobody has to offer anything but speculation. "

"You said he gives you the creeps - what did you mean by this, Toby?" Ikiaq inquired gently.

"It is hard to describe. Keep in mind that I was but one of many young visitors to the court, and Aylmer is much older than me, a man to my youth, so we did not spend much time in the same company. Yet I met him on hunts and at balls, and he talked to me gracefully and kindly. I liked him too much." Seeing Ikiaq's surprised face, Toby tried to explain. "Before I met him I knew he was Lleu's lover, and Lleu is an abomination. Yet when I met Aylmer I felt nothing but goodwill to him, I felt sorry for him for loving a madman, but why should I feel so? I did not know him at all. He never once said anything to make me doubt his honesty or intentions, but then he never said anything I could hold on to in the first place. I felt for him like the puppy Jareth calls me, a puppy that looks at its master with love and admiration no matter what the master does. I desperately wanted him to like me, and he talked to me amiably, asking harmless questions that yet always had one goal: What is the goblin kingdom? He could not know that none of the blood bound would ever answer this question, but he tried. I knew then that he used magic to draw me, but I have never heard tell of such magic. I know not who Aylmer is or what he wants, but he is searching for information about the labyrinth. I was terrified of him yet I was drawn to him still. I asked him a good many questions as a smitten young man may of one he admires, and he readily answered me, yet nothing he said gave any insight into the man he is. I could not find out if he is a decent man, which makes me doubt he is. And yet I loved him and wanted to please him. Aylmer is a man to beware of." An ominous silence ensued, and Toby looked up in confusion.

* * *

"Heart magic," Ikiaq said with incredulous reluctance. The sound of indrawn breath echoed through the room.

"None would dare touch heart magic", Sindri protested weakly, "none has ever tamed it. It has destroyed everyone who has tried to bend it to their desires in the end, and who would be mad enough to dally with that which will kill you?"

"When has risk ever stopped those with burning ambition and no other way to address it?" Jareth answered her silent plea gently. "This puts a different spin on things. We are facing a bigger threat than we ever have. Whoever is harnessing heart magic has great power at their disposal, and we need to know if it is the goblin kingdom which is threatened. The target may be Ardar Iforas, which seems ready to fall already."

Lord Ningyo did not agree. "It is far more likely that the goblin kingdom is the target of these machinations, " he said succinctly. "I believe most of you know why U Llyr send the lady Morveren and me to court? The Maighdean-mhara do not wish to foment discord, but U Llyr felt that it was time to give a quiet warning to the goblin king. We have ever been on good terms, and the king of the sea felt that dealing with someone we know and can work well with is a valuable asset well worth conserving. Of course, having you indebted to the sea was an added incentive," Ningyo flashed an unexpected grin towards Jareth. "In the last few hundred years we have heard inquiries so discreet they are barely discernible about the goblin kingdom and its king from various visitors, harmless discussions about what might have caused the vanishing of the labyrinth after the murder of the last goblin king and his queen, or general musings about how and where the goblin king managed to so increase his magical powers. The visitors did not have any connections to each other as far as we could ever tell. And then U Llyr was approached with an ever-so-subtle inquiry whether he would feel the need to take sides should there be ... succession problems in the goblin kingdom.

It was so subtle that indeed it would have been impossible to be sure it was not but a misunderstanding. But it wasn't. Someone feels he would be a much better goblin king than present company. The lady who asked the question died that night in her sleep, and the healers could not say how or why." His sharp mind had been mulling possibilities while he was talking, and he addressed Toby with another question: "When did Lleu first start his campaigns against the dwarves? And what is the reaction at the court in Tahat?"

Eagerly Toby looked up to the distinguished soldier. "I had been wondering the same thing, that's why I went to Ardar Iforas when I learned from the dwarves in the Simien mountains that Lleu had a new lover and that his behavior had been becoming erratic and turned violent." He looked down at his mug of larak in surprise, the cup had been magically replenished, steam rising from its surface. He smiled his thanks at Ikiaq and continued. "Lleu had begun levying the dwarves in Ardar Iforas with high taxes and imposed strict rules on dwarfish mining and trading more than three hundred years ago. That was long before he and Aylmer were lovers, and Aylmer was not even in Ardar Iforas then." He took a deep drink of larak and took up his story bleakly. "There is much unrest today in Tahat, and not only the court. The dwarves are gone, they have either fled the country or were executed as traitors." He swallowed and quickly lifted the mug to his mouth for another draught. "They all confessed to treason. I went to several executions. You see, everyone is required to come bear witness to the king's justice. From the look of them it was easy to tell why they confessed. One was a boy of perhaps thirteen, only a child. His teeth were gone, an eye gouged out, and he had to be dragged to the block because he could not walk on his ruined feet. He didn't scream only because they had cut his tongue out. The great market square of Tahat was full of people, but it was eerily quiet, just sometimes you could hear weeping, quickly hushed. Most of those "traitors" were old men and women, faithful citizens of Ardar Iforas for uncounted great years. They had stayed behind to conceal the secret escape of their younger brethren for as long as possible and to delay their pursuers. Some younger men were dragged to the blocks as well, they'd left with their families and covered the escape of the women and children whenever they'd come across Lleu's mercenary troops. Lleu has hired orks and falin to do his dirty work. Everyone wonders what he pays the falin mercenaries, but they are too afraid to ask. Few of the dwarf warriors were ever captured alive, but those who were unlucky enough to be caught were made an example of." He laughed bitterly. "I guess it worked. Everybody is afraid now, and none dare say a word against Lleu or his doings, not even the fae at court. I could not bear it any longer, I needed to be coming home."

* * *

The silence in the throne room was deafening, even the goblins had quietened at Toby's words. Violence in the underground tended to take the form of spontaneous acts of individuals, it was not a policy as was wont in the above. There were some aberrant individuals in all kindreds that enjoyed inflicting pain and terror, yet such abominations were rare and were dealt with quickly, decisively and terminally when caught. The underground had seen wars, but they were mostly fought by mercenaries of kindreds not minding murder and mayhem nor missed when they died. And while the fae were not known to be too worried about the welfare of "lesser" kindreds, genocide was not a pastime they fancied. They would resort to murder if their ambition required the removal of someone occupying a position they felt was rightfully theirs, and there had been some sad occasions when ambition required some ... bigger... sacrifices, but this was generally frowned upon and not usually a topic for polite conversation. Lleu's actions were without precedence, and thus there was no established way how to deal with it.

Porr said aloud what all were thinking. "Smart move to just go for the likes of dwarves, and I hear pixies and harpies now. It's a pity, of course, but none of the fae will feel obliged to actually do anything since it's not their hides on the block. How many have made it to the Simien mountains, Jareth?" He turned to face his king.

"Many thousands have now arrived, most of them in Kuhmo, as it is the biggest town, but many also in Joensuu and Rovaniemi. I understand that less than three quarters of the dwarves in Ardar Iforas have escaped to the goblin kingdom, many of them women and children. So many of the men died making sure their families got away alive." Jareth got up quickly and gripped the arm of his chancellor, forcing his trembling friend to sit down on the throne. Porr buried his face in his hands, as did the lady Sindri at Jareth's words. Both their shoulders were shaking. Jareth took up pacing back and forth restlessly. "Those who made it to the mountains are heavily burdened by what has happened to them, and many of them need much help. No taxes will be levied in the mountains for the next great year, and all possible help is given to the dwarves. Ikiaq has long dispatched mule trains of food, building materials, clothes, tools, everything the dwarves need to absorb the newcomers to their communities, they have begun to arrive months ago, and she keeps organizing more mule trains with the materials that the Elders of the Dwarf Council have asked for. She will keep this up as long as there is need. The snow giants are coming down from their mountain caves in the clouds to help the dwarves in the low mountains in the building. Gnomes from all across the kingdom are traveling to the mountains to work alongside the newcomers. The trolls have sent a large group of their most peaceful and cooperative members to Kuhmo to help with the hard physical labor. I understand that there are some misunderstandings occasionally, but generally the trolls seem to be performing admirably. The Elder Bryndis Ragnarsdottir has send a missive to me and to the trolls. She was heaping praise on the trolls who seem to shirk no duty however hard, dirty or dangerous, and vowed a debt of gratitude to the Trolls. I was astounded, this was not what I had ever expected, on neither the trolls nor the dwarves side." Jareth was pleased to see a short smile touch the face of Porr, and the lady Sindri seemed to have regained her composure again. "You might have noticed - or if you are lucky, you did not - that there is a certain dearth of healers in the labyrinth at the moment. They have gone to the mountains, fae, pixie, Aos Sidhe, huldra, all kindreds have send as many of their most gifted healers as they could possibly do without. The very ground in the Simien mountains is pulsing with magic, the labyrinth is pouring all its strength into the earth and its binding to the dwarves. A majority of the newcomers have already sworn the blood-oath to the labyrinth, and more of them are doing so every day. They are ours now, and none will hurt them again."

"I am glad to hear this," the lady Sindri said with a barely shaking voice. "I doubt that Lleu's latest campaign against the pixies and harpies will be quite as bad, thank the night. Pixies have the kind of innate magic which will allow them to just vanish, so I believe it is safe to assume that the day after Lleu's first attack on a pixie none of them remained in Ardar Iforas. And as for the harpies, well, I'd imagine the harpies will take to the air and flap the night out of there. I can already picture them decimating our mountain goat populations. I hope they understand that any attack on sentient creatures will not be acceptable?"

Porr squared his shoulders and got up, bowing to the lady Sindri. "Your observations are quite right, my lady, as always. The harpies have sworn themselves to the labyrinth in exchange for peace and quiet. They mostly just want to be left alone, and they did not put up any arguments against the limitations of their hunting. I think they like the idea that they will be similarly protected against anyone with a dislike of harpies. Or perhaps they just don't much like the taste of the kindreds.

And as for the pixies of Ardar Iforas - tens of thousands of them decided to take over the White Plains with the herds of wild horses living there. I understand the wild horses are not so wild any more, and very well groomed indeed." A laughter rippled around the room, the pixie's love for horses was well known. "Once they were given to understand that their continued presence in the plains would require their pledge to the king, they decided to swear their oath on the spot." A wide grin suddenly broke on Porr's face. "I am still sorry I missed that one. It seems the labyrinth decided to get Jareth there right away for the oath-taking, so he found himself on the White Plains just after sunrise, half-drunk still from last night's revels and absolutely starkers, around him thousands of pixies, and a herd of bemused horses. I understand the horses were the only ones not ogling him." The laughter in the room grew louder. "However, our king kept his countenance as always and gracefully accepted the blood oath of the pixies without ever doing something as gauche as conjuring himself pants. I hear he looked very regal in an unusual sort of way."

Jareth stood with a slight grin on his face, utterly unruffled and patently unconcerned. "But my dear Porr," he asked sweetly, "do I detect a note of envy in your voice? Pray tell us, do you think the pixies would have been quite as impressed if it had been you?" The raucous laughter that erupted now helped to clear away the sorrow that hung heavy in the air.

It was Lord Ningyo who brought the topic back to the threats facing the goblin kingdom. "It would seem that Lleu of Ardar Iforas has gone mad, yet it is not the madness of heart magic. Thus the direct threat of this is worse to his own people than to the goblin kingdom. Simply knowing that he is violently unstable will allow us to prepare a defense at the winter border in case he is irrational enough to attempt a direct attack of the kingdom, the labyrinth is warned now. This strikes me as the smallest of our problems," with these words he bowed deeply to the chancellor Porr and the lady Sindri, "not to make light of the plight of the dwarves or any that suffer Lleu's wrath.

Yet even in the sea I have heard of the white Babdh and her blood-beaked crows, and I never heard it said that the white vulture answers to anyone's summons. It is well known that she hates fae, and she is outside the bindings of heart magic. So what is her part in this?"

From the crowd a goblin piped up. "Babdh hunt at winter border all the time now. Never kill blood-bound, only those traveling our roads. Many refugees on the roads now, not only dwarves, also haltija, human, troll, many kindreds afraid of Lleu from Ardar Iforas. They is killed in goblin kingdom, and Babdh laugh in the wind." Jareth recognized Awk, who had bound himself to the king in the very early days of his reign, but restless and footloose Awk had apprenticed himself to a blacksmith and had taken to the back roads and hamlets of the goblin kingdom as a traveling blacksmith journeyman. Become he was a very smart and observant goblin while looking amazingly stupid and harmless, and he collected valuable information as a respected blacksmith and well-liked drinking companion from people of all wakes of life, and brought it back to his king. "I sees Babdh hunt ten league away from winter border where earth is green and no snow covers ground. Red-beaked crows attack dwarf woman heavy with child, she alone on road. I kill one crow and Babdh come and scream and threaten and hiss but not touch me. She leave. Woman and I find sanctuary, I make her take oath so she safe. How Babdh know not hurt oath bound?"

Toby sat up straight, disgust on his face. "I heard tell at court in Tahat that Babdh hunts the borderlands of Ardar Iforas as well, but Lleu claims everything is peaceful at the borders. I overheard some hushed discussion whether he is unwilling to admit anything is wrong or whether he has part in it. The court does not want to dwell on it too much."

Porr spoke up. "But there are attacks on the oath bound. The hags in the fens are under attack. The skins of five hags have been found nailed to the crossroad markers along the trade roads in the fens in the last year. They are afraid enough to live close together now, but it is hard on them since the craving for solitude is in their nature. They know not what is hunting them. And the bodies of shedim keep drifting down the Haliakmon. They have asked for protection for their children if not themselves."

Ikiaq cleared her throat, looking worried. "Nerromiktok did not come to the meeting today because she has not left the stables for the last ten days. The great-horses fell sick, first one, then all of them. She found that the last delivery of oats had been poisoned with wolfbane seeds, too small to see unless you look for them, too many for an accident." Ikiaq looked up at Jareth with an apologetic expression in her face. "She did not want to tell you until she was sure that the horses would live, she did not sleep these last days to save the breeding lines." Nerromiktok was Jareth's milk-sister, but a few months older than him. When they were children, she had kept him in his place by clipping him over the head whenever he displeased her, but as he quickly grew much taller than she did, she had changed her tactics to poking his belly, hard. Yet as was the way with big sisters, she loved him dearly and was fiercely protective of her milk-brother while trying her best not show it. She had followed her parents to the goblin kingdom and together with her father Pakak, who had taught Jareth how to ride his first horse without maiming himself or the horse, took over the duties of the keepers of the royal stables. She knew each of her horses by name and could recite their linage in her sleep. Her breeding had created the famed great-horses, the envy of the underground, priceless steeds with unmatched speed, strength, agility and intelligence. "She does not know where and how the poison was introduced. The oats are grown in the goblin kingdom, the farmers, the traders and the teamsters are all oath-bound to the labyrinth. And it is goblins who work in the stables. Once Nerromiktok realized that the horses had been poisoned, the first thing she did was to get me to make sure every bit of food and supplies was checked. Not a morsel of food has left the kitchens for the last week that has not been tested for poison."

* * *

"But there is a pattern here, Ikiaq, can't you see?" Sindri's voice had taken on an excited edge. "Think of it, Jareth, you have spend most of your time at the winter border these last months, the need there and in the Simien mountains the most urgent. Both you and the labyrinth directed your attention to where it is most needed, and so in the border lands Babdh does not dare to touch the oathbound. I know not how, but Babdh knows that the labyrinth would destroy her it she dared touch our own, there.

The poisoning of the horses is an attack in the heart of the goblin kingdom, yet the horses are animals, not bound to the labyrinth and the king. Killing them would send a message yet it would not alert you or the labyrinth.

Now the hags, they are blood-bound, yet in the fens they live alone and far apart, spectral, cloaked in their own magic they are more a dark sweet dream than reality as they dance with the peat-lights, haunting the dreams of the wanderers in the fens. And the shedim live in the mists, barely touching reality at all. Tell me, Jareth, can you feel them in your mind as you feel all of us?"

Surprised, Jareth stilled, his mismatched eyes turning distant and unfocused. As he stood unmoving and withdrawn, the bright summer sun outside the throne room was extinguished by dark clouds that appeared in the sky, sudden gusts of wind howling through the treetops. After minutes of silence, he spoke, his voice dark and rough with the power of the labyrinth. "We can feel them, but distant and flickering, not a solid presence like most of you. The hags, we need to search for them and keep our mind on their presence else they are but a butterfly touch, barely felt, a gentle caress whose cessation we forget immediately. The shedim are even stranger a touch in our mind, there yet not, like the memory of a song yet not the notes itself. We feel the mists are part of us yet a part we barely know, like hair or nails - touch we feel not there, nor pain. We have not felt the deaths of our hags and our shedim as we should, less than a pinprick, nary a touch, so scant a sensation that we forgot to inquire. We did not grieve their loss as we needed to." A cold, hard rain fell over the labyrinth, sending everyone in the open looking for shelter from the sudden storm. The goblin king looked up, his beautiful features contorted in anguish. "We have failed them. We forgot our duty to those who have claim to our protection. They have sworn fealty on their blood, and we have not kept our promise to them."

With a tortured breath, Jareth fell to his knees and covered his face in his hands.

For a moment none moved in the room, startled and frightened at the passion and the pain in the goblin king's voice, but in a heartbeat the goblins, never known to know their place, were stumbling all over their king, in a cacophony of shrill voices offering love, reassurance and their willingness to dismember anyone who ever looked askance at a shedim or whatever. Goblins being goblins, however, even become ones, the goodwill could not last. Within moments the goblins started turning on each other, loud complaints of "Get yer foot off my face, you cretin" and screams as teeth closed around limbs started filling the air, and fists began to fly. Nothing could have worked more efficiently to bring Jareth back to himself. The goblin king pushed himself up from the ground and shook his body, spilling goblins off his whip-thin frame. He looked at the goblins crowded around him with exasperation and affection.

"While I am moved by your expressions of devotion, I am sure I would have found them more comforting if they had not been accompanied by your stifling weight on my chest and kicks in the face." He stared ominously at the unruly crowd in front of him, quelling the half-suppressed fighting with a dark glance. "I believe that any of you who still feel the need to express their ... devotion quite so physically need a cold bath in the bog." This resulted in an astoundingly quiet goblin crowd looking at their king in fear and love. With a sigh, Jareth grinned at his goblins. "Well now then, entertainment for today is over, so I believe you can just return to whatever it is you ... committed previously. I thank you for your attempts at comfort, they were truly appreciated. That said, thank you and now just sod off and try to stay out of my way for a bit." With one final glance at their king the goblins practically stumbled over each other trying to get out of the throne room before the king might change his mind about the bog.

The hard rain outside the windows had stopped, but still the sky was dark with clouds and the air had cooled down noticeably. With a wary smile Jareth turned to his councilors. "I must thank you for your keen insight, my lady Sindri," he said with a courteous bow. "I never realized how my very own lack of attention put my subjects into danger. But forewarned is forearmed - I will not be caught unaware again, and I will know where and how mine own are. So should you at times find me less than fully present in the here and now in the future, rest assured I am trying to pin down those of my subjects that have a tendency to hiding from my mind. I have taken your oath of fealty, and I owe you protection in return. It seems clear now that whoever wields the heart magic is trying to gain the power of the labyrinth. Yet whoever has their sights on the goblin kingdom will have to attack me directly in the future." He smiled. "My lords, my ladies, I thank you for a most instructive meeting. I had not hoped to achieve as much in a single meeting. I will speak more with each of you in the next days, but barring any unforeseen developments I want to convene the council every ten-day at the same time here in the goblin throne room. Think over what we discussed, talk about it with your friends and the next time we gather here we will see what we can make of this."

Jareth walked to Toby and sat down next to him on the stairs. Cuchulain immediately tried to climb on his lap, but Etain nipped his flanks and growled to let him know that he was trespassing. "Sed will bring you to your rooms. You need to rest, Tobias. You have served me better than I could have ever expected, I do not believe another could have done as well. You are a young man, Tobias, so let go of your worries and enjoy the present. The present is all we ever have, do not waste it with bitterness and fear. I will not let you leave here before you had time to grow strong again. Hrafn Gunnlaugsson has only recently returned from the fens where his family breeds sheep. He will be glad to see you - I am sure you are more interesting than sheep. I have also been invaded by family, Tiernan has come for an extended visit. He said nothing made him feel as alive as war, and it seemed I had one on my hands. I am sure you will meet him soon, he has asked for you."

He got up gracefully and walked to the exit. "And please try to remember the All Hallows masque in a sennight - do not dare to excuse yourselves. If I have to be gracious to all those benighted courtiers, I at least want the satisfaction of knowing that others suffer with me." With these word he turned to Ikiaq and took hold of her arm. "But if you will forgive us now, I need to talk to Nerromiktok and have a look at the great-horses."

* * *

/

* * *

In the early afternoon a deep, resonant bell tone rang out through the air of the city in the heart of the labyrinth, calling those with a grievance to the king's court to seek justice and redress. As usual, the court convened in the biggest hall, the main market in the center of town as it was the biggest structure in the city. The citizens of the city in the heart of the labyrinth considered court day one of the more entertaining holidays and space was at a premium. Some enterprising huldra had established betting tables in the corners of the hall and offered ad-hoc bets on the outcome of the cases, carefully gauging the cases and the king's mood before deciding on the odds. They always did brisk business. The attempts of the equally gambling-mad gnomes to take over some of their business had proven short lived as the crowd quickly realized that the forest sprites were more reliable to follow-through with the payout. Today's crowd was even bigger than usual; everyone wanted to hear the king dole out punishment to the those broke the labyrinth's peace. Jareth was talking to the bailiffs and city guards, his brother Tiernan by his side, a dark shadow to Jareth white glow. Tiernan was a hand-span shorter than Jareth but wider in the shoulders, his hair fell like a silk waterfall down his back, black as a raven. His black hair made his skin seem even paler as it was, as pale as his brother's. His eyes were the color of the summer sky, laughing and merry, and his low booming voice had seduced many a woman. While two men looked nothing alike, they both bore the imprint of their parents, the sons of the Ard Ri and the queen Eriu would never be taken for anything but brothers. Around them the many courtiers who had decided to witness the hearings were milling about chatting. The lady Morveren was animatedly talking with her ladies-in-waiting, she had arrived early as she had done most court days. She could not know that a good many bets had been laid on her and Jareth and a lot of money hung in the balance of her choice. It was widely known in the goblin kingdom that while their king had bedded many ladies, although maybe not as many as wanted to bed him, he was a man of discerning taste and did not enter lightly into any relationship with a woman unless she was truly unique, charming, accomplished, beautiful and generally the object of utter envy of all other men. Yet in all the uncounted great-years as ruler of the goblin kingdom he had never seemed inclined towards marriage and he had been clearly content with some of the ladies that had in effect been his queens, sometimes for long years. It had always been the women that left him, and being the kind of women they were, it had not been because they wanted to be goblin queen. The general consensus was that he was first and foremost the goblin king, chosen of the labyrinth, a high-handed and brilliant ruler but a smug and arrogant man: too much of a king to be much of a life-mate. Best bloody king the labyrinth ever had as far as his subjects were concerned. The odds at the betting tables clearly demonstrated his subjects conviction that he was headed for another round of single life, overwhelmingly predicting that the lady Morveren was going to be fed up with him in the near future and would not share his bed much longer. Jareth knew of the bets on the court cases and applauded the enterprising spirit behind them, as long as the whole matter was handled discreetly, but his subjects knew full well that the betting would be over for good if he learned of their other long-running wagers; the sense of self-preservation bred into all the denizens of the goblin kingdom had made sure that not even a rumor of their other bets had reached his ears.

* * *

The atmosphere was in the old market hall was festive and lively, the first cases being judged as always the usual petty grievances that made the bulk of the king's cases. It was hard not to be entertained. The goblin king sat on the dais at the head of the hall, lounging impossibly relaxed on a high-backed chair, the dark brown jacket open over his linen shirt and brown boots folded over the narrow pants. As usual his riding crop was drumming idly against his heels. The interest in the hall always perked up whenever the rhythm changed or Jareth sat up in his chair. These were not necessarily good signs for the claimants, but always promised high entertainment as the king proceeded to shred to pieces the self-serving arguments of his hapless petitioners. One of the claimants had already managed to raise the crowd against him with but a few words. Trader Malen, a wealthy and influential man in the city, had brought a complaint against his erstwhile companion Idra, the woman who had shared his house and his bed for a goodly time but had recently left him, taking with her the presents he had given her over the years and a babe in her belly. He wanted her to return the gifts as he claimed they were given in good faith of her staying with him and he wanted her to deliver the child to him once she had given birth. Idra, who had left him only when his infidelities and carelessness had finally killed her love, looked at him contemptuously and said that she was planning on a bonfire with his "generous presents" and that nothing would dissuade her from this. She would not return anything that was rightfully hers. Applause branded up in the hall, Jareth stopped drumming and sat up smoothly, smiling at the trader with intent.

"I am not quite sure what your complaint is, Trader Malen," he said with some malice in his voice. "The lady Idra was not your house keeper, so she did not break any contract when she left you, and since you have never bothered to hand-fast her she has no responsibilities to you as your wife either. As for her taking with her the gifts you have given her over the years, you seem to be inexplicably unclear about the concept of presents. A telling inability." His smile showed altogether too many teeth. "Let me enlighten you - a gift means it that you give a token of your affection from the fullness of our heart and it passes into the possession of the person who receives the gift." Jareth glanced down at the list in his hand with contempt. "And tokens they were indeed. Four pairs of shoes, three sets of everyday clothing, one set of fair-day clothing, a couple of silver bangles, and the list goes on. Not for long, though. Considering that we are talking the course of five years." Jareth looked up and smiled at the heavily pregnant Idra, sitting anxiously next to her parents. "My lady Idra, it seems I am badly overpaying those who work in the castle. I believe the castellaine Ikiaq would skin me alive if even the kitchen grudges were outfitted as poorly as this. And I strongly suspect you never saw a single coin in all this time you were keeping his house." Idra blushed and looked to the floor.

Her mother Sanaz could not constraint herself any longer and jumped up, staring threateningly at Malen with barely suppressed fury. "Idra does not need this man's clothes, Bahram and I will gladly help our daughter until the babe is born and for however long she needs it, but a bright, hardworking woman like Idra don't need handouts from anyone. But if this sorry excuse for a man believes he will lay hands on the child ...".

Jareth quieted the enraged woman with his voice barely lifted. "Lady Sanaz, while I have no doubt that your daughter is hardworking, I cannot vouch for her discernment since for five years she did, as a matter of fact, work for no pay for a man who would not even hand-fast her for a limited marriage contract." He smiled at Malen, his voice deceptively understanding and amused. "But I digress. Trader Malen, I would have imagined that a livestock trader understands the finer points of the law when it comes to offspring. What would you say to a man who claims possession of a foal without ever having made an attempt to acquire the brood mare?" A titter went through the room.

Malen was an important man in his circles and small enough to surround himself with those of lesser stature than himself, so in his delusion he did not recognize the threat in the king's voice. "Your majesty, I am sorry if I left the wrong impression with my poor choice of words. But I beg you, sire, try to understand my entreaties: this woman has lived in my house, eaten my food, worn my clothes for the last five years, she has lived off my goodwill and love, and now she has taken all she wants and decides to walk out, taking with her my child to live as a pauper, for how can such a mother take care of a child? I can give this child all it deserves, and it is the right thing to do for any child," and Malen kept talking on and on and on while Jareth's smile got wider and more predatory with each sentence.

"So you say she lied when she claims she ran your household all this time, or that you had other lovers beside her?" he asked silkily.

Malen recovered quickly. "I never said she did not, but that does not mean she did not live of my labor, now does it? And I had never promised her I would be faithful, so why should she care if she had no problem with it for all those years?" And he went on to describe the life any child, especially his, deserved, and how Idra was not a fit mother while he would want to help the child of the goodness of his heart.

Finally Jareth cut him off with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I believe I heard all I need. I will give my judgment now. We have determined that by definition it is not possible to ask for the return of gifts - and if I may say so, my lady Idra, I hope you have realized the true price some ...gifts carry. You would have been much better off if you had hired out your labor those last five years. At least your nights would have been undisturbed. However, I must agree with Trader Malen's evaluation of your opportunities in the near future. Now be honest with me, lady Idra, both you and I understand that you will be overwhelmed by the attention of men who want to court and marry a woman with a newborn child, yet will a woman of your experience really want to rely on another man to look after her in the future? " Jareth sat impassively as Idra and her parents voiced their opposition. When the noise had died down, he went on, smiling at the triumphant face of trader Malen. "I agree with Trader Malen that any child deserves the best upbringing possible, and as he has made so abundantly clear, he is concerned about children in general, not about his in specific. He obviously has no legal claim at all on your child, my lady Idra, and he surely knows this as well as anyone. Yet I believe you have a somewhat skewed opinion of your erstwhile mate. As an outsider I can see his generous offer for what it is and I accept it in your stead to assure the child's welfare." Malen's face took on an anxious look. "This is my decree: Trader Malen, who has made very clear that his concern is for the welfare of the child more than anything else, will gladly give a quarter of his profits every year for the proper upkeep of the child to the lady Idra until the child is old enough to be fostered out. After this he will pay an appropriate amount of pocket money to the child until his or her majority, and of course he will supply a generous dowry or bride price when the time comes. Since he is an honorable man, he will agree with me that the royal burgrave will audit his books every year to assure an honest distribution." He overrode the trader's mumbled opposition with a last threatening statement. "The lady Idra will forgive all possible future claims for back pay and punitive fines contingent on his agreement to this judgment." Any further words were drowned out by enthusiastic clapping in the hall.

The other cases of the afternoon droned on, of little interest to all but those intimately involved. Jareth had countless great-years of experience dealing with the squabbles of share-croppers and shop keepers, and while his judgments occasionally might have left his supplicants wishing for another judge, none felt that he did not deal out justice.

* * *

/

* * *

At the end of the afternoon came the last case of this session, the one the congregation had been waiting for. A fortnight ago the king's troops had come across a band of mercenary troops from Ardar Iforas, ten furlongs from the winter border, and after a short fight had managed to take them prisoner, a small band of ten ork, three falin and their commander, a fae from Lleu's court. In their power was a small group of dwarves from Tahat, bound and shackled, two men, three women and a child. The citizens of the goblin kingdom knew of the atrocities at the winter border and they understood clearly that none in the underground would help them should they ever find themselves in the refugees place. They wanted to hear their king's justice.

Jareth stood up from his chair and walked to the edge of the dais, three crystal globes materializing in his left hand. Before the dais was an empty half-circular space, and without any warning he threw the crystals to the ground. As they touched the ground they broke into splinters of light, and quickly grew into bright orbs of white glare, the silhouettes inside resolving into the bodies of the prisoners, the tall fae commander to Jareth's right, the falin in the middle and the orks to his left. The crowd surged backwards, those closest to the light spheres beating a hasty retreat as best they could. A good view was desirable, but none cared to be too close to falin.

Slowly the glare of the light died down, but the globes drained the magic of their prisoners and bound them inside so they might hear and move within the limits of the spheres yet not let their curses escape nor their bodies. With a turn of his hand the sphere of the falin moved forward to the center and grew, the magic barrier to the falin inside thinning, allowing their voices to be heard. Their hissed curses and attempts at magic sent shudders of revulsion over the crowd suddenly silenced by a wave of fear. Falin were the darkest creatures in all the worlds, their very name the vilest curse, their presence alone casting a veil of dread and despair over the assembly. Falin did not look terrible, their heads were at height of the withers of a great horse, with pale silver skin and a dark grey mane of wispy hair falling from the top of their heads over their backs, their faces no stranger than any in the underground, their eyes of the most brilliant amethyst without any white showing. Had they not been the byword for everything that is hateful, they would have been thought handsome. Yet falin lived off the death of others, spending their lives plotting, ensnaring, hunting other kindreds and drawing pleasure from the unspeakable magics they performed on those that fell into their hands, not from any need but for the enjoyment of the acts and the power they derived from the life force of those they destroyed. Those caught by the eaters of souls would beg for an end to their torture, but it was interminable long in the coming, and none of them would ever go to the other side of night, but any trace of their existence would be wiped out from all but memory of those who had known them, never to go on to whatever promise held out after death. Falin spend their lives trying to assuage their insatiable hunger for more victims, always willing to barter the power they had gained over the years from the life force of those they had destroyed for more sacrifices. And ever there were those willing to deal with them, willing to do anything to gain an advantage, no better than the falin themselves even if were other kindreds.

Jareth looked at the falin, his face stark and quiet as death. "You have been forbidden to ever sully the soil and the air of the goblin kingdom with your presence on the threat of death since the first goblin king made the laws. You have been named _herem_, anathema. Yet you chose to ignore the laws." His smile was beautiful and terrible and the falin began to shriek in terror. "I will not have any dealing with such as you. Creatures as evil as you do not deserve to be sent to the other side of night, and I will not kill you. You will spend eternity alone, encased in magic, without hope of escape or succor until the end of time, never to be released until creation itself unravels." The light sphere around the falin split into three parts, encasing each body in its own shell, and as the pulsing globes shrunk around the wreathing bodies, the last thing the terrified falin saw was the merciless and cruel smile of the goblin king catching the crystals in his hands. As his subjects looked at their king in rapt awe and fear, he carelessly threw the three crystals high in the air, and when the balls reached the apex and began the descent, they lost substance, vanishing into nothingness before they reached the floor. "Thus all falin will be dealt with should they attempt again to stain the goblin kingdom with their presence. They will live forever, alone, unable to move, speak or close their eyes, kept alive in a sphere of magic, buried in the heart of the sun, the bottom of the sea or the core of the world." A shudder went through the assembly. Bloody best king they ever head, but a cruel bastard, Jareth was.

* * *

An imperious gesture brought the sphere with the orks to the front, and as the other globe before it grew and became increasingly transparent and open. The orks inside were a pitiful sight, watching the falins' punishment had reduced them to frozen despair. Orks were one of the more unpopular kindreds of the underground; misshapen, violent and narrow-minded without a shred of empathy they were nobodies friends. They hadn't any special talents and were not usually minded to hard work, so most honest occupations were out of their reach. They were however possessed of a strong streak of entitlement, which together with rather elastic morals and a self-serving intelligence made them ideal mercenaries, fighting for anyone if the pay was right, without a care for wrong or right. While orks were generally loathed, they were not without virtues. While rare and far apart, there were ork families in all underground demesnes who had by dint of hard work and perseverance made a place for themselves among other kindreds, as accepted as any other on their own merits and not on the deeds of their kindreds. There were a few small well-respected ork communities in the goblin kingdom, and it had been found that they made truly excellent soldiers and commanders once they cared about what they were fighting for. Yet even while the unrepentant majority of orks were but muscle and sword for hire, and killed without remorse or mercy in battle, they would not kill once the fighting was over. They would easily rough up any who resisted after a battle was won, but they would not kill those unarmed. As the earliest master's of hired orks had found to their short-lived dismay, ordering orks to kill unarmed women and children was an excellent shortcut to have those swords turned against you. This did not mean that the orks would not rob the defeated of anything of value and leave them behind without a care, but they did not hold with killing the helpless. The captured orks looked at Jareth with utter hopelessness in their eyes, all fight having left them as they hoped against hope to be allowed to the other side of the night at least.

"Now look at these evil minions of destruction here," drawled Jareth with a contemptuous smile on his lips. "The dwarves fought like marozi, men and women alike, and though only five of them, they nearly managed to keep at bay their attackers, four falin and ten ork, the falin bearing the brunt of their fury and desperation. They even managed to kill one, but were eventually overpowered and bound. We can be quite confident that our intrepid mercenaries here were not going to put up any resistance if the falin took one or the other of the dwarves as their payment." Jareth looked at the defeated orks with a nasty grin on his face. "What is the point in killing you? There's countless more were you come from," he mused with a malicious smirk.

"Well, there be less of them by at least ten, so kill them already, why donncha?" shouted a rather cheeky voice from the crowd.  
Jareth laughed. "Ah, but you lack finesse. Where is the punishment in this? Isn't the idea of punishment that it should sow fear in the heart of others? Orks assume to die violently, a death in their dotage is not something they count on. How would killing these worthless creatures deter the others? And much as I hate to admit it, they have not killed anyone within my borders. I am sure they have done enough to deserve death anyway, but if I dealt out punishment for all crimes committed in the past, and outside of my jurisdiction, I am sure I would not have many subjects, judging by the dodgy look of you lot." He conjured a crystal in his hand, shimmering in a beautiful golden color, endlessly soothing and warm. The orks stared at it from the inside of their prison of light as if it spelled the end of all their tomorrows. Jareth grinned wolfishly and hurled the crystal at the orks' light prison. Upon impact the crystals merged, and the light globe enclosing the orks turned the color of sunrise. Slowly the color filled the whole globe, touching the orks with its luminous light, embracing them until their eyes closed and their terrified faces relaxed. Slowly the light around the orks faded, leaving them standing before the goblin king, their faces blank and uncomprehending, their moss colored hides permanently tinted with a golden glow.

"I've brought you a gift," Jareth told the dazed orks. "Something you never had. Empathy. You will know exactly the effects of your acts for you will feel the same emotions as those you have dealings with. Never again will you be blind to the consequences of your actions. Two gifts, actually. Honesty as well. Never again will you be able to tell a lie, the truth must out whether you want to or not." He turned a stern eye on his people. "Your king forbids you to harm these orks in any way. You do not have to aid them, you do not have to show them kindness, but on your oath I forbid you to offer them damage." He turned back on the orks. "You are free to go. You may stay in the goblin kingdom if you want to, or go back to whatever godforsaken hell has spawned you. I am sure they will eat you alive there." He looked at them harshly. "But get out of my sight. Now." The orks turned on their heels and ran out of the hall as fast as they could, the crowd parting for them in disdain and closing again after their passing.

* * *

At the king's beckoning the third sphere slid before the dais, the shimmering walls dissolving before his glare.

"Such an unexpected visit, Tadhg. Didn't you once say you would never pay a visit to a degenerated place like the goblin kingdom? Yet here you are, and in such lovely company as well." Jareth's voice was full of solicitous concern, befitting a sovereign inquiring about a visitor's health.

"I demand you release me at once," Tadhg hissed with barely suppressed fury. He was unusually tall even for a fae, his muscular frame much wider than the goblin king's, with arresting grey eyes framed by dark brown lashes, his honey blond hair an incongruous contrast. His lips full and generous, his features classically beautiful, he was the very personification of all that is alluring in fae. Jareth and Tadgh knew each other as most fae did once they had lived a great year or longer, near-immortal life ensured a ever-increasing sphere of acquaintances, but they had never been friends since Jareth did no believe in fae superiority even before he was chosen, while Tadgh felt naught but disdain for all "lesser" kindreds.

With a polite smile Jareth walked up to his blustering prisoner and looked him over coldly, blithely ignoring the stream of insults that Tadhg hurled at him. Despite his advantage of size the imprisoned fae seemed insignificant next to Jareth, whose cold, harsh features and whip-thin, lightly muscled body should have paled in comparison yet impossibly managed to look more haughty, powerful and simply alive.

"Your manners seem to have deserted you together with your sense, my dear Tadhg," Jareth said mildly when the other man had to stop for breath. "Your language may be perfectly acceptable with your .. associates, but you should really try some restraint when ladies are around."

As the prisoner caught sight of the Maighdean-mhara courtiers on the dais, he blushed. Morveren inclined her head and smiled at him. "Please forgive me, my lady Morveren, I was overcome with passion and did not realize that my outburst might insult innocent ears. Yet do not take my words as an insult, lady, I am astounded to see you here. I cannot understand how your father could allow his only daughter to visit in the goblin kingdom, what kind of company does this place offer to a fae lady?"

Jareth laughed. "Well done, Tadgh, you still have not lost the ability to insult people the very moment you open your mouth. The lady Morveren is Sao Llyr's ambassador to my court, and she is well able to take care of herself without any man's guidance or guardianship." He pursed his lips in mock deliberation. "You on the other hand are obviously unable to do so. Tell me, Tadgh o Conghaile, is your mother proud of you?" Jareth spoke calmly over the other man's fury. "If my subjects are degenerate, what would you call falin? By fae law no falin is allowed to live, they are killed where they stand when found, yet you were the commander of four of them. Soul eaters, abominations, and they followed your orders. Tell me, Tadgh, how many helpless victims have you delivered to them? You have led a war party of mercenary orks and soul eaters into the goblin kingdom and taken prisoner six innocent dwarves, abused them and were dragging them back to their death in Ardar Iforas - that is, if they were the lucky ones not given over to the falin. Yet you stand here and insult me. Is there a epidemic of madness in Ardar Iforas, or are you simply stupid? Not even you can have the sheer nerve to pretend what you do is honorable."

"I was doing my king's bidding, as I have sworn to do," Tadgh replied stiffly. "I had been ordered to bring back these traitors to my king's justice, and your filthy rabble stopped me delivering these criminals to their due punishment. You have no right to keep me here, I am a citizens of Ardar Iforas and answer to nobody but my king."

Jareth looked at the tall fae with contempt. "Traitors? Two tired miners, a pregnant miner's wife, an old shopkeeper and a healer, not to forget a six year old child whose parents are dead? What secrets did they have to betray, Tadgh? What ill can dwarves who have never left Ardar Iforas in all their lives do the country? Have you not seen the slaughter on the blocks in Tahat? Have you not heard the screams from the torture chambers under the castle? You know as well as I that by fae law you deserve death by giving aid and shelter to falin. Treason is not even on the list of unforgivable crimes. Yet you do not even talk about committing the most unacceptable crime but put the blame on the backs of innocents. May your mother curse the day she bore you, and may your father deny your name." Jareth's voice had gone deathly quiet, barely containing the fury that tried to break free. "How dare you show your face in company, Tadgh? A mindless slave is what you are, a fate you freely chose, you decided to forgo you obligations to decency in favor of your so-called duty to Lleu. You know as well as anyone that any court in the underground would have gladly welcomed you had you decided to resist Lleu's sick orders. Yet you abrogated your free will and your conscience to a madman's machinations." With a visible effort Jareth restrained his fury and calmed himself, once again the mocking, careless goblin king. "I am however not here to judge you on your worth, however non-existent, but on your actions." Tadgh tried to resume his stream of insults, but with a careless flick of his fingers Jareth took his voice. "You brought a war party into my demesne, in itself an act of war. I could have you executed as an enemy. But worse, the falin would not have been able to walk in the goblin kingdom if you had not shielded them from detection with your magic. By fae law I would be within my rights to kill you right here for the crime of aiding falin." He smiled mockingly. "Of course there are enough fae who would still call me a murderer anyway, since I am the degenerate goblin king. So you will live. For as long as you will. But I believe I will rather make sure you cannot aid falin in the future. Let me give you some final advice, though: You may want to steer clear of anyone with a dislike of fae in the future, my dear Tadgh. A fae without magic is the perfect target for those who hold a grudge. Can you think of anyone who might hold a grudge against you, Tadgh?" Beads of sweat began to form on the forehead of the prisoner in the sphere of light, his face a study of panic. With another flick of his fingers Jareth restored his voice.

"You cannot take my magic," Tadgh screamed. "You are but a traitor to the fae, surrounded by freaks, monsters and worthless rejects, when you should use your power for your own kind. My magic is part of me, you would not dare to take it from me, you abomination. Your are worse than those things that call you king, you and your kind should be wiped from the face of the earth, and ..." Whatever else he was going to say was stopped by another movement of Jareth's fingers. "I am tired of the ravings of this lunatic. It is time to pay for your crimes."

In the blink of an eye the goblin king stood on the dais, garbed in all his dark finery, slowly and carefully weaving a complex spell with his voice and hands, poetry of movement and sound. As the spell grew, a pulsing light began to form around all the creatures in the hall, the innate magic of each become visible as a halo of light, beating with the rhythm of their hearts. Everyone in the underground had some magic, so the light emanating from the windows and doors of the old market hall shone brighter than the sun. Inside, the light on the dais was blinding, so bright and white it was impossible to look at it, while the light emanating from the prisoner's globe was getting paler and thinner by the moment, until the fae in its middle stood in a pool of shadow created by the lights around him. Jareth finished the invocation and stood motionless on the dais as the light in the hall dimmed quickly, and looked at the broken man before the dais without pity. "When the sun rises the second time from now, Tadgh o Conghaile must have left the goblin kingdom. Any who see him after such time may kill him without fear of punishment or retribution. Tadgh o Conghaile is _herem,_ and like falin he shall be killed by the first who sees him." Without a further word the king turned away from the prisoner in contempt and walked to the back of the dais, not sparing as much as a glance at the desperate fae who tried to attack him from the behind, easily stopped by Sed who had been expecting such an act. Without further ado Sed dragged the much bigger fae to the doors of the hall and threw him down the low stairs at the entrance.

"You better leave now, fae. If I see you after the time given to you I will kill you myself, with pleasure. Life is more than scum like you deserves," he growled, and after a short look at the hostile faces staring at him Tadgh turned his back to the hall and began his long walk out of the goblin kingdom.

Inside the goblin king concluded the day's proceedings as the crowd in the hall was eagerly discussing the judgments. The lady Morveren and her ladies-in-waiting bid their leave early while Porr was talking to Tiernan with some curiosity. "I did not know you had such strong magic. Your light was second to none but Jareth, much stronger than any others. With power like that, why aren't you the ruler of some demesne?"

With a wry grin Tiernan answered him lightly. "You have found my weakness in a moment, Porr. I am the black sheep in the family, the one that just could not be bothered to find a proper calling. I admit, I had long thought that Jareth was like me, footloose, restless, unable to settle, yet then he found his place in the goblin kingdom. I have never found any place that called to me as much as the road, so I wander the underground. And by the look of it, it is just as well - kinging it seems to be an exceedingly time-consuming and boring affair. Jareth has become ... responsible, a fate worse than death." He grinned at Porr conspiratorially. "You should ask Jareth to perform the spell when my parents come for a visit some time. None of us is as powerful as he is, though he was not so strong in the past, but still, all of our magic glowing is quite a spectacle. There is a reason why nobody ever has tried to attack Danu. I am as strong as my father, but my mother outshines our magic easily."

* * *

/

* * *

When Jareth caught up with Morveren in their quarters in the castle, she turned on him in a flash. "How could you do that? This was the cruelest thing I have ever seen," Morveren raged at Jareth who looked at her bemused and decided the best course of action was to keep his mouth shut and wait for the storm to blow over. "I have known Tadgh for countless years, he belonged to the staff of the ambassador to Ardar Iforas at my father's court for centuries. He may not be wise and he is not the smartest man I have ever met, but he did not deserve this. How could you tear his magic off him? What are we without our magic?"

Jareth could not help himself. "Would you rather I had killed him? Is that your desire, my dear?"

"No! We are fae, immortal and steeped in magic, it is what it means to be fae. How could you destroy his core?" Morveren was shaking with emotion. "Punishment, yes, but this is a cruelty beyond belief, for as you said, he had not killed anyone."

Jareth gave up on the idea of silence being the wiser course. "He was with falin, shielded their presence with his magic. Helping falin is punishable by death by the laws of the fae. Have you conveniently decided to forget this detail?"

Morveren faltered, and her shoulders fell. "I know he deserves punishment, Jareth, but he is not evil, just a narrow-minded and stupid man, and is not the blame for all this on Lleu? I cannot bear for you to be so cruel as to tear his magic off him, for what kind of existence may he have now?"

Jareth looked at her and choose his next words carefully. "Morveren, he used his magic to protect the soul eaters. He led a war party into the peace of the goblin kingdom. It does not matter if he was ordered to do so. He is a man grown and responsible for his own actions, and his actions are unforgivable. I am the king of the goblin kingdom, and my first duty is to protect my own. I cannot, not do I want to, show mercy to those who aid in murder and violate my demesne. It is my duty to protect my country and my subjects, and the kindred either my subjects or my enemies belong to does not matter to me."

"The dwarves were not your subjects. They belonged by rights to Ardar Iforas, so why did you have to take their side?"

"You do niot mean this, Morveren. You have been to the Simien mountains with your ladies, and I know you have given as much help as possible, you did not stint on either your magic nor your wealth. I do not believe that you would want some innocent dwarves to be destroyed by the falin or murdered by Lleu."

Morveren turned to him, her eyes of sea dark grey with emotion, and bit her lips. Then she asked in a tense voice: "Do you love me, Jareth?"

The tall man before her seemed taken aback by her question, but looked into her eyes without hesitation. "I did not expect this loaded question to come up this early in our relationship. Most of the women who decided to ask me this question and all it entails had shared my life much longer than those few years you have spent at my side." Morveren stiffened under his intense look. "But to answer your question, yes, I do love you. This answer has obviously never been enough in the past, but I am hoping you can understand. My life is better because you are here, you are a smart, educated woman, beautiful and accomplished, you have listened to my conflicts and solutions ruling my demesne and have given me invaluable advice and help. My court admires you and follows your lead, and I am a better king with you at my side. But you also make me a happier man, I enjoy your presence in my life, and in my bed, and I always thought you felt the same way."

"Would you show mercy to Tadgh if I asked you for it?" Morveren asked him softly, her elegant hands touching his hesitantly.

Jareth's eyes closed for a moment, then he stepped back a fraction and smiled at her resignedly and with a touch of bitterness. "What's said is said, my lady Morveren. I can not break my oath to mine for love. Is that what you want, a man who will forsake his duties and all that is right at your wish?"

When Morveren did not answer, he continued determinedly. "I am the king of the goblin kingdom, and I am sworn to protect my people and my country. I am bound to the laws even more than any other, for what is the law worth if the king only follows it when it pleases him? Morveren, I want to do right by you, but my duty comes first. You are a king's daughter, and U Llyr has been a ruthless and cruel ruler when it has been necessary. It is what a king does, the price we pay: Our first commitment is to our duty." He looked at Morveren with a silent plea in his eyes. "This does not mean that I do not care for what you desire, and I will do my best to give you what you want, but the power and the privilege of royalty come at the price of giving up some choices we want to take for decisions we must make."

Morveren looked at the beautiful, dejected man before her with tears in her eyes. "What you are saying, Jareth, is that I will always be less important in your life than your duties. If I need you, and at the same time your subjects do, even those disgusting goblins or those horrible hags and harpies, you will choose to attend to their needs, not mine. This is not what I call love, Jareth, and it is not enough for me. I will not be your entertainment, your plaything, discarded when you have more important things to do." Morveren stood straight, her hands tightened to fists at her side. "And you are wrong about my father. He is not a cruel man, he does not enjoy inflicting imaginative punishment. You do. You did not for a moment feel pity for Tadgh, and you were glad when you could punish him."

"Tadgh deserved everything he got and worse. You are right, Morveren, I feel no pity for him or his like, and am content to be able to mete out the punishment for such as him. If this makes me cruel, so be it." Jareth looked at her in silence for a moment, his face cool and composed, then he bowed deeply to her and said with regret in his voice. "I believe you have made yourself perfectly clear, my lady Morveren. I am more sorry than I can say that I cannot give you what you need, but I hope you can find it in your heart to believe me when I tell you I wished things were different. Yet I must accept your choices, my lady, as you have every right to make your own decisions. Please accept my apologies for any pain I may have caused you, I never meant to hurt you." He moved gracefully as always to the doors, but turned back to her the last time: "I will have my things removed from your quarters within the hour, my lady Morveren, and I shall bother you with my attentions no more. Good bye, my lady." He closed the doors quietly behind him as he left the room.

* * *

/

* * *

The morning of All Hallows dawned without any portents, a beautiful day in autumn, as perfect as can be. The sun stood gloriously in a sky of the most beautiful turquoise, not a cloud marring its perfection. The air was mild, unusually so for Samhain, and it promised to be a day made to spend outside, the light crystalline and with the golden red glow of autumn, the slight eddies of wind caressing the skin with a warm touch, the last kiss of summer before the sunlight ceded to winter, the days getting shorter and the air cooler. Ikiaq and the castle servants had been busy working since dawn, the preparations for the masque reaching a fever pitch. The atmosphere in the city was joyful and festive, Samhain was ever one of the most popular fair-days, none worked but for the necessities of life, and celebrations were going to be held all over the labyrinth, and indeed the whole goblin kingdom. A jubilant feeling of celebration touched lightly on all minds in the goblin kingdom, a gladness filled every heart. With the preparations for the masque ball in full swing, every hand in the castle was happily busy with some task or another to finish the arrangements for the celebration in the evening. The fact that the lady Morveren was not going to be the at the side of the king presiding over the ball had thrown some unexpected spokes into the planning, but the palace servants could deal with any emergency as working for the goblin king did offer more than the usual amount of unexpected change. The rather unexpected separation had the tongues in the castle wagging, yet since none knew what had happened between the two and both were perfectly amiable and polite to each other, the gossips had to nothing to exchange but suppositions and rumors, which did not make for very satisfying material. The lucky punters in the city at the heart of the labyrinth had no such problems, they were sure that the lady had decided that the king just wasn't offering what she wanted, and so decided to call it quits. She was not the first, and would not be the last. The first bets were already being placed as to when the king would take another woman to his bed. The citizens of the goblin kingdom had no finer feelings where their king was concerned, and this is how they liked it.

When the king had not risen by mid-morning nor had the lady Morveren, the first unease surfaced. It had not been unusual for them to rise late occasionally, but the king was an early riser, not prone to sleeping late. Now, that he slept alone again, why was he still not up? Worried but elated, Sed hesitantly entered his bedroom and found Jareth in deep sleep on his bed. Late in the morning someone had finally noticed that none of those not oathbound to the labyrinth were about. When the maids and menservants investigated, they were found in deep sleep, not always in their own beds, and they could not be woken. Neither could the goblin king.

By midday a full alert had been called and the city was alive with lively rumors that did not squelch the joyous atmosphere. In the goblin throne room the war council had convened, the frantic chancellor trying to determine what was going on. Ikiaq, Nerromiktok and Pakak were too worried to be much help, but between Porr, Ningyo, Toby and Sindri some semblance of order was maintained. Sed had joined the meeting with two of the guards, the others were not only guarding the doors of the king's bedroom but also unconscious body of the king himself, the windows closed to prevent any possible attack. Sed and the goblins of the king's guard had found themselves shaking, their eyes red and whirling, their hearts beating fast and an eerie joy coursing through them that terrified them since they did not understand it, their worry for their king driving them near mad.

"I do not know what is happening," Porr spoke faster than was his wont, clearly rattled. "I have never heard of an attack on the labyrinth without all the oathbound knowing of it immediately. I have asked several of the fae at court to cast their scrying spells, but they have observed nothing out of the ordinary. The odei have gone to the borders on the wind to see if anything untoward has occurred, but none have returned yet. None of those who belong to the labyrinth have been affected by the untouchable sleep but Jareth and all those who are not of the goblin kingdom. There are many who have lived here for great years who never swore the blood oath, and they are asleep. It does not seem that anyone is awake who would hurt the labyrinth." He shook his head as if to remove cobwebs from his brain. "I should be terrified, and in some way I am, but I cannot be afraid. Something in me is glad."

Before he could continue, the door opened and 'Lo lani blew in. Her hair was the color of storm clouds before thunder breaks, it whipped around her face as if buoyed by an invisible wind, and the countless small pieces of cloth that twirled around her small, lithe body as if carried by a wind hose formed an near perfect sheath of color, allowing for the occasional tantalizing glimpse of her silvery skin. She moved quickly to Ningyo's side and touched his outstretched hand with a sweet smile, then turned to the chancellor. "All roads end at the border. The other demesnes have vanished in a wall of mists, and as you enter them to follow the road, you emerge at another spot in the goblin kingdom again." she said in a reedy, light contralto. "The labyrinth has closed itself off from the underground again." Stunned silence greeted her words.

Ikiaq broke it first, her worries about her milk-son stronger than the strange feeling of well-being that was flooding her mind. "What is going on? The last time the labyrinth closed itself off the king and the queen had been killed. But Jareth lives. He is in a slumber we cannot wake him from, but alive. Has someone poisoned him? Will he wake up again?" She took out a dirk from her belt. "It is time the labyrinth gave us some answers. I will call it with my blood."

Before she could proceed however, a squeaky voice spoke up from the door. "No lady, no hurt yourself. King is well, only sleeping, nothing is wrong." All eyes in the room turned to the small goblin who had spoken. Sed was next to him in a heartbeat, holding him by the neck of his power ranger sweatshirt and shaking him rigorously. "What is wrong with the king? Why is he asleep? Tell me now, now!"

Toby was by his side in a moment, calming the overwrought captain of the guard down, and talked to the unperturbed goatish goblin. "You are Eek, aren't you? I have seen you when Jareth brought Makemba and her children to the underground. If you know what is going on, tell us."

Eek looked at the group in the throne room with a wide grin. "Can you not feel it? The joy, and the welcome? The king is called to join the labyrinth, for the binding, and he will wake up when it is done." He looked at the unconscious smiles breaking on their faces even though they did not understand what he was saying. "The labyrinth has chosen a goblin queen. Sarra is coming home."

He giggled as he looked at the stunned faces turned towards him with dropped jaws, but quickly the look of astonishment was supplanted by a disbelieving joy, mixed with consternation.

"Goblin queen? We have a queen?" Sindri usually sounded more competent, but mindless joy had taken hold of her emotions, much like what a dog might feel when the master comes home after a long absence. Porr and Ikiaq were no better, though they tried hard to keep their faculties together, but finally they gave up. Porr pulled the smiling Sindri into an impromptu dance as Pakak embraced his wife Ikiaq. Ningyo held his lady 'Lo lani in his arms, his face buried in her hair, laughing with abandon at something she said. Nerromiktok and Toby sat on the ground next to Eek and tried to extract information from him, somewhat hindered by the fact that they kept bursting into giggles. Sed and the guards had given up any dignity they had acquired in their long life with their king and were running wild in the throne room like some barely sprouted goblins who could not even dream of becoming. _**The goblin queen is coming home. **_The exuberant ecstasy of the labyrinth touched on the minds of all the oathbound, and a scream of joy rose from countless mouths into the sky over the labyrinth. The celebrations for Samhain began early this year, and they lasted for days in delirious elation. Food and drink seemed to be in unending supply, and the magic of the labyrinth thoughtfully took care of pets, farm animals, and whatever unavoidable duties there were. A milk cow needed to be milked if the farmer was stocious or not, and a dog or cat needed to be fed and let out to the garden if the owner wanted to come back to consciousness in a livable place. It was an unforgettable welcome celebration for the goblin queen if her subjects could but remember it.

It took well over a week for the population of the goblin kingdom to fully recover from the festivities, but the king remained asleep, and the feeling of joy and welcome remained warm and strong in everyone's mind. It was a time of recovery and renewal for all in the kingdom, and it gave hope and healing to the many new oathbound in the Simien mountains who had escaped from Lleu's madness.

* * *

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Slowly but without worries Jareth's councilors began the process of taking stock of the strengths and weaknesses of the goblin kingdom, comforted in the knowledge that the new queen had already bought them time. Lleu would be hard pressed to lead anyone into the goblin kingdom now.  
At the winter borders mountains were growing, wider and higher every day, a far distant wall of stone capped in white, an impenetrable obstacle to any plans of invasion by stealth or force. Porr had paid it a visit with Sed, and he was impressed. The road from Ardar Iforas led through gentle foothills higher into the mountains until it came to a sheer face of rock and vanished into a huge gate cut into the mountain, edged in elaborate patterns carved into the hard stone, wide enough for a hundred people to enter side-by-side. The gate opened into absolute darkness which could not be lit by torches or magic. Coming up to the gate, a knowledge grew in the mind of the wanderer that to enter with hatred of the labyrinth and the desire to rent and destroy was a death warrant, but those led by curiosity and no ill feeling, or those in fear for their lives knew that the darkness would hold them in its embrace like a mother and lead them safely to the other side. And whatever their fears may have been, the refugees from Ardar Iforas passed through the gate on the other side of the mountains and beheld the goblin kingdom in all its splendor before them. Porr had stationed a garrison at the gate, and a bustling village was springing up already to welcome the travelers and if possible be the first trader to take advantage of them.

"I wonder what happens to any bastards that want us ill," wondered Sed aloud. He was quite taken by the gate but would have easily given the life of an enemy to know what would actually happen to them. He and Porr grinned at each other companionably. To judge from the long stretches of quicksand that had extended the fens, the goblin queen had a mean streak. Anyone trying to get close to the hags in the fens had to cross those sands, and not only were they treacherous and deep, easily trapping and killing any careless enough to walk were they should not, it was also home to some unknown creature that swam through the sand as if it was water, long of tooth and vicious. They both approved.

And more changes were wrought every day, too much to apprise of immediately, but growing and fortifying the kingdom yet also adding a countryside of strange and unexpected beauty, and creatures not seen or heard of before. When Jareth woke up well over two months later, the goblin kingdom had grown larger by half, and its beauty and danger had increased.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII**

Sarah would remember the binding for the rest of her life, though it resembled the memory of a drug-hazed dream. As the labyrinth had taken her away from the above, her reality dissolved for an indeterminate time as they wandered freely in each other's minds, the mingling of their memories and thoughts and ideas giving rise to the growth of the labyrinth. The wild magic fed on imagination, and Sarah's mortal, human conceptions were utterly different from anything the labyrinth had ever encountered. Both of them gained rather more than they had expected from the joining.

Sarah found herself stripped of all her defenses, all the lies humans tell themselves to survive glaringly exposed and dismantled, truly naked to the alien mind that scrutinized her every action, thought and dream, however narrow-minded or heroic, vicious or noble, nothing escaped the curiosity of the labyrinth, all of her was appraised. Sarah was cowering in her own mind like a terrified child in the corner of a closet, for the first time in her life did she see all of herself, without any excuses, illusions, or the respite of a failing memory. While she had been an honest woman all her days, striving with all her considerable strength of mind and character to live a moral life and be as honorable a person as she could be, she was sickened by the unadulterated view of herself. She might have surrendered to self-loathing had the labyrinth not embraced and accepted all of her self in an absolute way that defied understanding, without judgment or disgust, for the labyrinth understood far better than any mere chosen the limitations a tiny life in a limited body imposed, forever isolated in absolute loneliness yet desiring union. There was no shame in thoughts and dreams, only in the execution of one's ideas. The complete acquiescence and love of the labyrinth filled a need in her she had never even known she had. She had found the belonging that is denied to humans once they leave their mother's womb, but strive to attain without ever knowing what they search for. She now knew in her bones, in her blood, in her very being, that she would never be lonely again until the day she died.

The labyrinth was elated with Sarah's multi-layered mind, its depths as much as its shallow corners, and her strengths fascinated it as much as her weaknesses. It had never known the mind of any but fae before, and it thrived on the difference. It delved into her perseverance, stubborn in spite of adversity and disappointment - so what if his chosen had indulged in vicious fantasies, she had not acted on them but shouldered on as best she could to try again. And the depth and luster of those fantasies! Thus came into being the quicksand in the fens to protect the hags, a vicious trap of slow, painful death for those who would destroy any who lived their lives in seclusion, with a really nasty horror that lived in the sand, thrown in for good measure. And the sand-snakes liked the hags, of course. Sarah's fantasies ran towards the elaborate and thorough, with no loose ends anywhere. Over countless great years and many goblin kings and queens the labyrinth had grown, its wild magic calling out to their minds and creating itself in answer to their dreams and power. When Jareth had been chosen, the labyrinth had grown considerably, and the wild magic had created some very dark places to mirror the determination of this chosen to keep his subjects safe and protect the land. It had believed that any change for the rest of eternity would be incremental and small, yet then Sarah came, and her dreams and fears and strengths were not any that the labyrinth had ever experienced before, and it rejoiced in them.

Her dreams created the Queen's Palisades at the winter border, ranges over ranges of sky-high mountains in a dizzying array of peaks and canyons, impenetrable and majestic, capped in eternal snow. Somewhere in the frozen silence of the mountains lay a lake, so remote and high-up that it would not be found for many years, a lake as big as a small ocean, as deep as a dream, without feeders or wells but refilling with snow alone every season to make up for the runoff. And in this snow desert lived a cornucopia of strange creatures, huge flocks of flightless birds that undertook long journeys every year to hatch their eggs, feeding of the boundless schools of fish in the lake, snow hares and foxes, huge sheep with dark coats and big, curved horns that soon were joined by mountain goats who always managed to get to new places quickly. The undisputed rulers of all animals in the Queen's Palisades were huge snow-white bears living in mountain caves, without a trace of fear and very curious they were excellent swimmers adept at catching unwary fish or birds, successful hunters on land as well, living their lives in undisturbed peace.

Closer to heart of the goblin kingdom, the low hills that brought water to the central plains had suddenly gotten much bigger and wilder, and reclusive dryads began to make their home in the ancient forests untouched by any kindreds' hands, now a new part of the hills, impenetrable and full of magic. The forests were a place where a girl might meet a challenge to set her on her life's course, or a boy might learn the thing that would give meaning to his existence. The trees whispered of the past there, and none who came to hurt any of the creatures living in the wild ever came out alive, finding their path barred by impenetrable branches and brambles, every living thing in the forest hostile until they succumbed to privation. And a mighty river was born in the wild forests, from many springs, and the tributaries convened less than five leagues before the edge of the hills, creating a huge river delta, dotted with islands of forest, a wide expanse of water moving inexorably to the edge of the hills, and it fell from the edge of the sharp granite rock down to the soft golden plains below. The impact of the countless tons of water created a shimmering cloud of water vapor that reflected the sunshine to create a prism of light to bask the plains in a veil of color, visible as a rainbow in the sky from twenty leagues away. The Leaping Waters were wide, well over of a league, and in parts fell uninterrupted for well neigh two furlong. Three islands on the crest of the falls divided the curtain of water, only two of them breaking the waters in high season after the winter rains. The Leaping Waters created a huge collecting lake at their bottom from which flowed the new river Tanais' sweet waters into the plains, another source of sustenance for the thirsty crops in the fertile earth of the plains, until at length the Tanais merged with the Haliakmon to flow onward to the sea. And in the joining of their minds they created these and many more places of exquisite beauty in all parts of the kingdom, and as many were dark and dangerous additions to keep the oathbound safe from those who would harm them.

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The binding had been eternal, timeless, without the limitations of physical reality. In other words, a good start. When the honeymoon was over, the labyrinth dumped Sarah very resolutely in the mists, with the clearly stated expectation that she would spend as long on the fringes of reality as was necessary to learn how to get out of them. Although the labyrinth was supportive and loving, shoring up her strength and power with all it had to give and sharing itself without any restraints to teach her the reality of magic and the underground, it refused to heed her occasionally near hysterical requests for getting her OUT OF HERE RIGHT NOW. The passage of time being as spurious in the mists as all else, Sarah never knew how long it had taken her to learn and understand enough to leave the mists of her own power. She knew however that unlearning the biases and assumptions of forty five years and accepting the rules of a magical world had taken a lot longer than the first time around in the above - she was not a child anymore, and unlearning proved to be more time-consuming than learning. She grimaced rather shamefacedly to remember how stubbornly her mind had held out against all she encountered; it seemed the human mind did not like to let go of all it knew and understood, even when faced with irrefutable proof that its assumptions were wrong. Having grown up in the reliable, scientific world of the above, where the laws of nature held sway and cause and effect were tightly and uncompromisingly coupled, Sarah was ill prepared for life in a magic world that abided by a completely different set of rules, and occasionally none at all. The mists were the cauldron of creation, wild magic barely congealed to matter, and the objects in the mists were only in the last stages of their conception, their final shape and nature not yet firmly decided. They were an object lesson in the unreliability of one's senses and the unpredictability of reality. Thus the mists were an excellent preparation for a human needing to accept and learn the underground in all its unpredictable difference, as reality had but a weak and fleeting grip on existence. Sarah was constantly jarred out of her preconceptions and had to face how all she understood of life had changed, set on its heels in a world that did not follow any rules she knew.

If the shedim had been taken by surprise to find the new goblin queen so unceremoniously dropped in their midst, they were nothing but joyful in her reception. The goblin queen in their domain was a pledge of safety for their children, however unwitting, for the labyrinth would guard its chosen with all its power, keeping the mists safe from the terror that had been stalking them. Yet they were a gentle and generous people, and Sarah realized quickly that she could not have found better teachers than the shedim. They had hidden in the mists for many great years as the madness caused by their voices obviated any association with other kindreds, so they could not aid her in understanding the kindreds. But they lived in dreamsong, shaping reality in the mists with their voices, and better than any kindred they understood the nature of magic. They embraced Sarah's presence joyously, never having know anyone not shedim but for Jareth and the labyrinth itself, so the curious, charming, sometimes wise and sometimes aggravating presence of the human goblin queen in their midst was a source of unending wonder and fascination. They even welcomed the countless goblins that congregated around Sarah wherever she went. It likely helped that the shedim were not attached to material things and tended to have few personal belongings, which also were not of a nature to entice the inbred greed of goblins. But goblins loved music, and the shedim were a kindred who created their existence from song, so even though they were not used to listeners, they took to a rapt audience readily. The shedim were by their very nature not judgmental, and so Sarah felt free to be herself, without need for delicacy and circumspection, which she was the first to admit she was no good at anyway. And ever since she had had a good look at herself in the binding, she tried to be as true to herself as possible, and she was intending to be a worthy goblin queen, all of which seemed to interfere with her more secondary attempts to be as pleasant and polite as she could.

As she learned to slowly, carefully maneuver the mists, the shedim were with her every step of the way, freely sharing their experience without holding back on anything. Sarah soon found that one shedim was always at her side whenever she needed help. Nehorai who sang of the night had made helping the goblin queen his life's mission. By a terrible twist of fate, he had lost both his life-mate Chanina and his son Shai, too young to even have tasted life's fullness yet, to the merciless death haunting the mists. Chanina went missing without a trace, and when only weeks later he found his son's dismembered feet amid a flurry of grey feathers at the banks of the Haliakmon, he foreswore the comfort of union with his brethren in dreamsong and vowed revenge, unknowing of any opportunity to make this possible, but hoping against hope that there was a way for him to avenge those he had loved.

The arrival of the goblin queen was the answer to his prayers. Nehorai ever patiently taught Sarah the dreamsongs that sustained life for the shedim by shaping reality with their magic. Sarah learned the ode to earth and water that had helped them survive before they found a home in the goblin kingdom. The dreamsong accelerated growth, pollination and maturation of plants to feed the ever-fugitive shedim who were never allowed to stay at any place for long enough to grow crops, but relied on the magic of their brethren to sing in the space of a song a few handfuls of grains and some seeds to fruition and finally, dinner. There were darker songs as well. Sarah knew pain and loss, and she took easily to the lament for the dead, which would sing into dissolution the remains of those lost to the night, to spare their bodies mutilation and desecration. These and many others that created the structure of the shedim's life she learned, but none of them was as hard to master as the song of joy which lay at the core of what the shedim were. Sarah did not have sufficient trust in the goodness of others to be able to learn this dreamsong easily. The song of joy was the primal sharing of love and hope to sustain them through an eternity of hate and death. Desolate Nehorai who sang of the night could not teach her the song of joy, for it had died in his heart with his family, yet the shedim took pride in teaching to the goblin queen the song that created their union and community, the pillar of their strength, it allowed them to go on when all hope seemed lost, their bulwark against despair. The song of joy was the repudiation of all darkness and the hope for a new, better day, the immaculate simile of the shedim themselves, Sarah felt. The underground was a poorer place for not having such as the shedim mingle with the other kindreds. They had no ill will nor evil in their hearts, and their generosity and love was boundless.

* * *

Sarah's education progressed in bounds and leaps, and some of the lessons were more memorable than others. She was starting to suspect that she would stumble, most likely in a far more literal sense than she liked, over new abilities and limitations for a very long time to come, since her learning was often enough hindered by her inability to even understand that there was a question. When she had complained of an aching back to Eek soon after she had arrived in the underground.

Eek had looked at her with astonishment. "But, why Sarra not make better?" he had asked with an obvious lack of understanding.

It had taken a while for Sarah to make him grasp the fact that she had no idea what he was talking about, or how she could make it better indeed. The explanation was as easy as it was dumbfounding. She was the goblin queen, with all of the labyrinth's power, and she was now an immortal presence in the underground, her physical appearance a matter of utter indifference, and impermanence if so she desired. She had to ask Eek for confirmation for this several times, but it seemed that she could look anyway she wanted - the new, improved Sarah, so to speak, her looks a personal choice. She briefly considered going for the charming and universally appealing looks of a golden retriever, which entertained her to no end for a few happy hours as she pondered the effects of this choice on her subjects. She abruptly decided to drop the fantasy when she imagined meeting the goblin king, considering which part of the human - and probably non-human - anatomy dogs tended to go for. Sarah, most unfortunately as far as she was concerned, while not able to muster a perfect memory of the goblin king, was still able to recall his tight pants.

To distract herself she decided that she was going to avail herself to the fullest of the labyrinth's power, and finally she was going to be beautiful. It did not go quite as she had expected. She went for the complete overhaul, her imagination creating the most beautiful woman she could envision, perfect skin the color of hazelnut, huge almond eyes of brilliant unearthly emerald green, a lush mouth and perfect features, and a body that made her seriously re-consider her dedication to the other sex. She looked at the creature she had created, utterly human yet as beautiful as any fae. And so, when she closed her eyes, and slowly opened them again, she knew herself to be beautiful. Her body felt different as she moved, more graceful, more confident in herself, all she had ever assumed to be the benefits of beauty. As she looked at herself in a looking glass, she knew that she was the woman she had always wanted to be - and she did not recognize herself. As she moved about with unaccustomed poise, more at ease in her skin than she had ever been, hearing her own sweet, charming voice, feeling her delicate gestures, she became increasingly despondent. All her life she had wanted to be truly beautiful, wasn't your life supposed to be better when you were? But now she felt a fake - she had grown used to being a decently good-looking woman, stunning only in the seductive words of men who wanted to bed her, yet comfortable in her less-than-beautiful skin, used to her shortcomings and unexpected glimpses of unpredictable grace. Her heart was aching when she decided that being as beautiful as a human could be was not for her, and she slipped back into the body she knew and understood, not the body of a woman to start wars, but one she was happy to be. She did not want to be what she was not, nor had not ever been. And why should it matter anyway? Eek and all her goblins thought the sun rose in her eyes, and the labyrinth had wanted her, out of unnumbered creatures in the underground and the above. It was enough. Which did not mean, however, that there was not room for improvement.

So she would not be someone else, what about it? She could still be herself, but younger and better. And thus Sarah looked upon herself in the prime of her youth, barely twenty and four, and she again was astounded. She had known for a fact that in her twenties she had always been too heavy, in desperate need of loosing five pounds, or better yet ten, with bad skin to boot. Now, where had these particular misconceptions come from? Had she not had had a mirror to check herself out? Rather shamefacedly she recalled Karen telling her that she was lovely, and dismissing the words as the expected und untrustworthy praise of a doting mother. Yet she had been quite lovely indeed, a shapely if more curvy body than the fashion of the day dictated, with no weight to shed, her pale skin fine and clear, if not as flawless as in a commercial, still not bad at all. So what if it was not perfect? From a gulf of more than twenty years she knew that any tiny fault grew to a major catastrophe when viewed from the distance of two inches to a mirror. Experience had also taught her that a man's vision went hazy once he was close enough to kiss you, which was a much greater distance than a woman used to view her skin when she was in major observation mode.  
Yet as she looked at the face and body of her younger self, so much more beautiful than she recalled, she could not find it in her heart to even move back into her youth. Lovely, fresh skinned, her skin unlined and soft, her face soft and open, facing the future with hope, her body in her prime, she looked at the girl she had been and could not see herself there over the chasm of the years. Where were the sleepless nights and days of Toby gone and lost? The hollows created by the death of her father, and Karen? The harsh planes of surrender to loneliness before she met Rob? The lines loss cut into her face when she saw him love someone else? The wrinkles in the corners of her eyes and around her mouth that had shaped imperceptibly over years of laughter?  
With a sinking heart Sarah admitted to herself that she could not forsake who she was. Past her youth and not beautiful, her looks had still left hooks in her heart. She could not shake the shape of the woman she had become without loosing herself, a price she was not willing to pay. Who she was mattered more to her than what she looked like, and in some way she was glad she preferred substance over surface. So in the end the goblin queen found herself employing the labyrinth's magic in small and outwardly inconsequential ways - nothing ever hurt any more, all the aches and pains of aging gone, her sight and hearing perfect, her teeth, her nails and her hair strong, healthy and without a blemish, her body the most changed if invisible to anyone but herself, her strength, stamina and speed of recovery that of a woman in the prime of her youth. Yet she still looked herself, her dark hair now more uniformly dark if still with a brilliant white streak growing from the parting at her hairline, the lines around her eyes still there yet never getting worse, but the deep lines between her eyes smoothed out. Her skin might have been a little tighter and plumper than it had been, her lips a little fuller as in her younger years, but still, the goblin queen was a proud and glorious woman of indeterminate age, not young but neither was she old, not a girl, not a young woman, but a woman who has lived life and has not been defeated by it. Yet it had been a lesson in humility, to find you could be anything you wanted but realize you did not really want more than you were. Sarah was shaken by the realization that she could not truly envision and embrace better than herself, for she had never reckoned herself a vain or self-obsessed woman. She did not think she was the crown of creation, yet why could she not let go of herself?

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But her musings were short-lived, there were things of far more importance than navel gazing. Once she understood to a degree the abilities and limitations of magic and had learned the rudiments of control, she began to ask questions about what was going on in the goblin kingdom. Nehorai told her of the terrors that were stalking the goblin kingdom and had taken his life-mate and his son, among too many others, and not only from the shedim. In the mind of the labyrinth she learned about the suspicion that the unknown enemy employed heart magic and none as much as suspected the possible course of any future plans. She found herself ever more grateful for Eek and Nehorai, for their unerring encouragement and patience, as she relied on them to clarify concepts that made no sense to a human woman. Sarah was amazed to realize that all humans had magic even though they knew not, nor would ever accept it. Yet heart magic was the one magic all living things possessed, even if they knew nothing of magic and could not control it, as was heart magic's wont. Heart magic was unexplainable and uncontrollable to any kindreds, and any attempts at doing so had proven catastrophic whenever anyone had tried. And this being the Underground, and the fae, of course they had tried to harness its power. And failed. As far as Sarah could make sense of the explanations of Eek, Nehorai, or the Labyrinth, heart magic is what sometimes happened when individuals met and, hell, magic just happened. It seemed as indescribable as that. Why do some people look at each other and feel love, or hate? Why do we sometimes know we have met a friend for the rest of our life in the first five minutes? Heart magic was as wild as magic got without being dissolution and chaos, and it was the strongest magic many creatures even in the underground possessed. But it was magic still, and some, with an iron determination and will as much as thorough training in the use of magic could influence it, giving up on the joys of love to control the power inherent in it. Controlling heart magic always meant hoarding it, acquiring it from others without ever giving any back, and it left the person trying to control it ever colder, lonelier and more distant from any true relations with other creatures. As the practitioners of this dark art became more powerful, they could control the emotions of those they encountered to do their bidding, all the while siphoning off some of it, even though it was most inadvisable to try with any possessing strong magic and power, as this could easily lead to detection. At its worst, all heart magic could be torn from the victim, killing them in the process and draining all their magic into their attacker. But heart magic was inherently uncontrollable, and it kept building up in any who tried to restraint and dominate it. Over time, it rendered them ever more unstable until it overcame their minds, at which point they lost the ability to feel any emotion at all. Their ensuing desperate attempts to regain the ability to feel something, anything at all, always made them to frantically gather more power, at which point their disguises fell away. None ever had reached this point without having taken countless lives, and judgment and punishment were quick and decisive.

Sarah felt sickened. She had thought that the underground was a better, more peaceful place than the above, but things weren't always what they seemed. And in the above she had lived a peaceful life in a peaceful part of the world, the horrors that humans inflicted on each other on the other side of a television screen, far away from her. Here in the underground she was the goblin queen, chosen of the labyrinth, in a kingdom that was under attack by a merciless madman who would kill children. Unfortunately dealing with this shit was part of her job now, a job she had accepted with her eyes wide open. Time to start earning her keep. Sarah straightened her shoulders and looked at Nehorai with narrowed eyes. "I must ask forgiveness if this causes you pain, Nehorai, but I need to know exactly what happened to all the shedim that have been killed since you came to live in the mists."

* * *

The problem with guarding the oathbound shedim and hags always came down to the difficulty of keeping track of them. Determined to protect what was theirs, both Jareth and the labyrinth expended an inordinate amount of energy on making sure that they knew where even their most elusive subjects were at any given time. As far as Sarah was concerned, this was an utter waste of resources. She might not know a lot about magic, but hadn't the people here ever heard of trip-wires? Sarah may have lacked practical experience, but an insatiable hunger for knowledge and the ability to function on very little sleep had left her with a lot of time to read, which she had done voraciously and indiscriminately, biographies, how-to's, novels, textbooks - if it was printed, she read it. Possessed of an excellent memory, Sarah had always been able to recall some idea or bit of information that might be applicable in any given situation. She gathered from the shedim's stories how they had fended for themselves before they found refuge in the goblin kingdom, and was immediately stuck by how easily the duty of guarding the shedim could be performed by themselves. So, after long and thorough discussions with the shedim, they had come up with an easily workable solution. Sarah created a sanctuary in the heart of the mists, binding the wild magic into unchangeable reality with all her new powers, aided by the labyrinth with all it could give. The labyrinth was instinctively aware of his bloodsworn in the sanctuaries, some small part of its attention unwaveringly aware of anything within the sanctuary trees. Nothing could attempt any kind of attack there without immediately alerting the labyrinth's whole attention and power, a most effective protection of all inside. So the shedim would be the labyrinth's trip-wire. As they had done in the past, when they were refugees without a place to live in peace, they took turns in singing the song of protection; at any time of day and night three of the shedim were in the sanctuary, a duty shared among them in a never-ending course until the mists were safe again. The song of protection kept guard over each and all of the shedim, the sphere of protection extending nearly a furlong from each shedim. Whenever anything sentient touched the outer perimeters of the sphere of protection, the singers knew. In the old days, when the shedim were hunted refugees, this had served the double purpose of protecting them as much as the other kindreds, for the shedim silenced in the presence of others as they hated the effects their voices had on the other kindreds. Yet now, none but shedim should be in the mists, the home and last recourse of the shedim by decree of the goblin king. If the shedim in the sanctuary felt any foreign presence, they would shed their blood on the ground of the sanctuary, alerting the labyrinth and the chosen in an instant that someone was trespassing where they should not. None would ever be able to come up unnoticed onto a shedim wandering alone in the mists and offer them harm, for the labyrinth and its chosen would be ready to face the interloper before the shedim were in danger. It was a beautifully simple solution, and Sarah was quite proud of herself. It might not be rocket science, but the solution the labyrinth and its powerful chosen goblin king had found was a lot more involved and inefficient. Sarah suspected they had simply jumped on the first solution they had seen and not thought of an easier way of doing it. She didn't care. The shedim would be safe after she left, and they were proud to take part in their own protection.

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* * *

Finally, after an unaccounted-for passage of time Sarah was ready to leave the mists. She had won the undying loyalty and love of the shedim and had gained a sufficient understanding of the underground and of magic, with a certain control over her new powers, even though she was still far from even a semblance of mastery. Sarah knew it was time to find her place in the underground, but she did not know where her next steps should take her. She wanted to see the goblin kingdom in the flesh, not only through her mind's eye when walking through the mind of the labyrinth, but how was she going to go about it? She would not ever have admitted to even herself that the dim and but half-remembered recollection of the goblin king had part in stopping her from even considering to join the court as the goblin queen. In her binding, the labyrinth had been as circumspect as it had sworn, never touching her mind with that of the king, yet she felt the trace of his touch in the mind of the labyrinth, as she knew he had to feel the traces of her. It had been an unsettling experience, and she had shied away from exploring it. She felt confident and wanted in the love of the labyrinth, and returned those feelings with her all her heart, but she neither loved nor trusted its king. She had not thought him a villain since she had grown up, realizing full well that his part had been to teach her to succeed in her quest for her brother, and he had played it exceedingly well, for what good would a victory have been that had been won too easily?

Furthermore, since her ascent as the goblin queen in the mists, Sarah had found herself playing Jareth's part in the testing of runners often enough to understand that the goblin king had not been acting on malice or evil intentions but that he was simply doing what had to be done to teach the runners the lesson they needed to learn. The first time she was called to a wished-away's home to face a horrified runner, she had swept into the room garbed in the glory of the goblin queen, attired in glittering darkness and luminous with all the power and majesty that was the mark of the chosen. She moved the crystal in her hand as if by magic, turning it from seductive toy to threatening snake in heartbeat. Looking into the eyes of the boy who had only then completely realized that his angry wish had come true, she had felt in her heart all the boy's emotions, his tormented anger and love for the little sister favored by his mother, his undeservedly high estimation of himself, his streak of violence and his near-impossible yet heartfelt dreams and hopes for his future. She also felt his true wish to win his sister back, whatever the price might be. So she set out to teach the boy some lesson in tenacity and the price we pay for our choices, a lesson that would weigh hard on him but would make him a truer person, honest and more knowing and believing in himself. She made him face his inborn violence and heedless arrogance, and with the help of the creatures of the labyrinth he was given the choice of a better future, his passions controlled and bent to his control, not riding him like a heedless horse. Sarah knew that in the eyes of the runner she was but a cruel, cold thief of children, playing with him, torturing him, without honor or mercy. Yet this was the price of the teaching, and she paid it gladly, knowing it was a lesson the boy needed to learn. More than ever did she understand what had happened to her as a girl, and she held no grudge against the goblin king.

Yet his faded memory still made her feel small and clumsy, a child facing a power it could neither understand nor control. Despite what she had learned in the meantime, her memory insisted that he was prone to do just about anything to get what he wanted, and she did not believe she could hold up if he set to manipulate her to do his bidding, the willing goblin queen to the king's rule. The goblin king was not happy about another chosen of untried power in his kingdom yet beyond his control, an unknown power in a unstable time. He had, after all, told her so in no uncertain terms.

* * *

One of Sarah's first acts after she had got her first tenuous bearings in the underground was a missive to the goblin king. She had thought about it hard and long, and despite all her misgivings she knew she was being childish, and she knew full well that the goblin king as the ruler of the goblin kingdom deserved respect due his position and power, and she did not begrudge him. She knew he had to be livid - hell, she would have been in his shoes. Sarah knew that he deserved her recognition of his power, and she was going to do the right thing if it killed her. Never had she been so glad of magic - she would not have to face him, at least. Her early attempts at writing a letter had been so miserable, she finally gave up on it in disgust. Not yet understanding the possibilities of magic, it had taken the hesitant, cautious advice of Nehorai to come up with a workable solution. When he had been through with his description of what was essentially a magical recording of her, she declaimed in her most theatrical voice: "Help me, Obi-Wan Kenobi; you're my only hope." A short look at Nehorai's blank face established that he must have thought her bonkers, and she explained to him that she was only quoting a famous line from the above. "God, I've always wanted to do a soliloquy, and I think I can do a very creditable performance if I actually don't have to face him."

So, on another court day in the goblin city, in the middle of a rather boring afternoon, the doors of the market hall opened with a resounding boom, and in from the road rolled a shining crystal through the hastily retreating crowd, tinkling with a determined ring that moved all and sundry out of its way. The crystal stilled in front of the dais where the goblin king reclined in his chair looking regal and bored, and broke up in an explosion of fiery lights and sound. When it died down, the translucent image of the goblin queen stood in the air before the goblin king in all her glory. She looked stunning, threatening and scandalous, and a sharp intake of breath echoed through the hall. Jareth had turned utterly still on his chair, his eyes narrowed and his smile froze in place on his face as he scrutinized the woman the labyrinth had chosen for its queen.

* * *

The scandalous part of the queen's robes were Sarah's idea. The labyrinth's first attempt in dressing the goblin queen in her full royal robes had been less than successful. While Sarah remembered with affection the frothy white Cinderella-confection she had worn as a not-yet-woman in her peach-induced dream, she would not have been seen dead in this kind of dress thirty years older. A dress that looked charming on a very young woman lost its appeal over time, mutton dressed as lamb sprang to mind. Sarah felt that a goblin queen beyond the ... ah... first blush of youth ... needed to project danger and threat as well as allure, and to her adult mind the labyrinth's choices did not do the job. She was not even going to mention the fact that all of the labyrinth's samples were astoundingly unpractical and uncomfortable, restricting not only her breathing in the tightly corseted bodice but also her free movement in the countless yards of silken petticoats and high heels that made walking difficult. How had she not noticed when she had worn this kind of dress the first time? Ah well, considering that this specific memory was a hallucination, the dress had probably been fitting like a dream.

So Sarah had put her foot down. Of course she did want to look impressive and as alluring as possible, but she had no intention to sacrifice either comfort or sense. And what was the point in dressing like a cut-rate fae? She was human, and she had none of their heart-stopping beauty, nor their tall, willowy frame. At over six foot she was tall for a human woman, but still a few inch shorter than most fae, and willowy was not the word to describe her body. She was going to play up what she had, and she while she did have a weakness for medieval clothes with chemises, corsets and overskirts, she wasn't planning to run about like refuge from a ren faire. So she started out with the kind of pants the goblin king seemed to prefer, the type that seemed spray-painted onto the legs, as black as midnight. If they had impressed her at a tender fifteen, she figured she could certainly impress a bunch of males rather more mature than that. And so what if women in the underground did not wear pants? There was a reason guys wore 'em, most of them practical. Sarah figured if she was ever going to face an enemy, she'd prefer to wear an outfit that allowed her to run, preferably away. Since she had grown wary of high heels before she had even reached her final height, she happily decided on a pair of knee-high boots of dragon leather so black they seemed to swallow the light. Eek had told her that a whole ascension of dragons lived in the furthest reaches of Ikh Bogd Uul, the canyon lands on the western reaches. The dragons shed their skin at the beginning of each growth cycle, and this dragon leather was rare and most coveted in the underground; water-and flame proof and well neigh indestructible it even offered some protection against spells and magic attacks. The ascension had sent her a whole bale of their dried skins as their tribute. Over the pants she wore an open skirt fashioned of two exquisitely embroidered panels of black spider silk cut like tulip petals that overlapped at the swell of her hips down to a hand span over the knees, curving to the ankles at the front and back of her legs, gracefully opening up as far as necessary to allow her a free stride when she needed it. Her shirt was of the finest silver-grey spidersilk cut close to her body, with a low neckline front and back, dripping with finest lace. A medallion hung from a finely wrought silver-colored necklace mindful of a braided plant around her neck, down from the hollow of her throat, the twin to the medallion on the goblin king's chest. On the front, her waist and ribcage were encased in an armor of finely wrought dragon leather that did not cover her chest, an nicely seductive touch Sarah approved of. On her back however the armor extended up to her neck, her pale skin glowing against the black dragon leather at the shoulders and the neck, where the leather was carefully curved outwards to hold graceful sprays of the deadly spines of the leviathan. Her shoulders and neck stood out very white against the black leather and the silver silk. Around her narrow waist hung a heavy arms belt that held a long, slender side-sword of midnight blue cobalt in the hanging on the left and a short dagger on the right, her hand, gloved in black, rested lightly on the pommel of her sword. Sarah was still trying to use the bloody thing properly as it was nothing like the epee she was used to, it had killing sides as well as a deadly point, and the handling was rather different from what she knew of fencing. But she had no plans of sharing this piece of information, not actually of using the sword. She figured it made for a lovely piece of dangerous ornamentation, but any real soldier would likely skewer her like shish kebab if she had to use the bloody thing. Her short wild curls were a riot of darkness on her head, the white strand in the parting standing out like a white flame. She had lost some of her nerve, however. Sarah did not like to admit it, but while she thought she cut a fine figure of a goblin queen, she still felt the need to hide her face from the fae as they made her feel small and plain, so she had the most fantastic goblin mask cover most of her face, a wild, distorted face of strange colors and inhuman proportions, the mask affixed to her face by magic, unmovable but by her own request. The shedim had been most impressed.

* * *

The goblin queen gracefully bowed her head low to the king and stood up to her full height, poised before the dais with a careless ease that had taken her days to perfect, a self-possessed smile on her lips. "I offer you my greetings, goblin king," her low voice carried easily to every ear in the great hall, carried by magic. "I beg forgiveness for paying my respects so late, but I needed to attend to some pressing matters that could not be delayed. This unfortunate time lag however offered me the rare opportunity to learn of the ill-natured rumors making the rounds about my arrival, and while I am sure that a wise ruler like you pays no attention to idle talk, it seems necessary to set the record straight." Sarah had figured that being scrupulously polite to the goblin king and even flatter him a bit wasn't going to kill her, but she had found that it had been a lot harder to than she had imagined. Using the most formal expressions she could come up with had helped, and as she kept rehearsing her little speech, she knew that she could never had spoken to him face-to-face. It had been hard enough to even think about the fact that he was going to see her performance. "I have heard loose talk about power struggles, and even assassination," she continued with a amused voice. "It is enough to make you wonder about people's sanity. Who would ever believe a mere human could best the goblin king when so many fae have failed?" The translucent image of the goblin queen bowed deeply if mockingly to the king. "I have neither the disposition not the aptitude for ruling, and I am not minded to interfere in the goblin king's affairs. Some few humans have always been able to use magic, and through magic and luck I have attained power and a source of magic here in the goblin kingdom." Sarah understood and wholeheartedly supported the need for secrecy about the nature of the labyrinth, but she needed to come up with some explanation why she had shown up in the goblin kingdom. She knew it was a weak story, but sources of magic inherent in the land or some artifact were not unheard of, so at least it was not impossible. She grinned maliciously. And it would not be her who would have to go around explaining anything, one of the major advantages of staying away from the power games of the courts. "It has never been my wish to interfere in ruling of the underground, or raise any doubts on the undiluted powers of the goblin king. I vow that my interest is not in power among the kindreds nor a position in any court, and I shall not meddle with any decisions or policies of the goblin king, and I shall consider any conspiracy against him as an assault on myself. All I care for is the use of magic, and the love of the underground. Yet words are cheap, so let me I make my meaning crystal clear, beyond any doubt." With an elegant movement the pale image of the queen created a crimson crystal on her hands and threw it in the air, and as the orb fell towards the floor, it gained in reality and shattered on the stone pavers, the shards and the blood that had been contained in the crystal spilling on the ground. The goblin queen's very real blood was slowly absorbed into the granite pavers as her pellucid image swore a blood oath that she would neither aid nor abet any attempts against the goblin king and would, should the need ever arise, come to the aid of the goblin king if asked. As the voices in the hall were rising in volume, she smiled a last smile to the dais as her image slowly faded.

Sarah had been quite pleased with her performance, a feeling that lasted exactly as long as it took for the goblin king to send her a scathing letter, faithfully delivered by the labyrinth while keeping Sarah's whereabouts utterly concealed as promised. Jareth clearly did not suffer from any difficulties in expressing himself to the goblin queen without preparations. The letter was short, curt and rude, and it laid down the law about the appropriate demeanor - and robes - of a queen, followed by instructions to how to get herself to the palace where she belonged before she got herself or others into difficulties. Sara was livid. Who did this arrogant bastard think he was? She had no intentions to give into his bullying, but at least his letter had removed any residual guilt she might have felt. Her public obeisance had been the right thing to do, but he chose to insult her and treat her as if she were a unruly child. She had never intended to put herself into his power even if he had spoken to her in the tongues of men and angels, but this just strengthened her resolve to stay as far away from fae as she could.

* * *

/

* * *

Sarah squinted into the bright sun. "Tell me, Eek, why is it called Underground anyways when it has a sun, a lot of stars in constellations I've never seen above, and even some moons?" She groan as she lifted the heavy sack of flour onto the back of the carriage. It was hard to believe what difference two measly feet made. Well, at least her upper body strength just had to be fantastic these days. She was sure that she was a lot stronger than she had ever been in the above, even if she only woke up at four foot on a good morning. It had taken her a good, long while to get used to her much shorter height and reach, and she often regretted not standing six feet in her stockings any more. It made her especially cross to have Ankimo tower over her since the hundun was not even six foot.

Eek was balancing precariously on the edge of the carriage, knees pulled close to his body, and watched Sarah and Ankimo stow away the flour. Ankimo stood hunched down in the back of the brightly painted caravan, and every time Sarah dropped another sack of flour at the edge, he grabbed it and stacked it behind the driver's bench. Eek rested his chin on his knees. "Kindred always have big celebration at Samhain and Beltain. Long ago, sometimes humans cross on them night, join our celebrations. Humans only ever pass through fairy rings, fall down through rings into middle of celebration, and is night, often in ball rooms, and they think they is underground. Kindred not have name for all place, only for own country, so they use Underground - fun, and why not? Is nobody's name, so no kindred fight about."

"I suspect it's no dumber than earth, the old sod or what you have," Sarah laughed as she hefted the last sack. "And I like the two moons. Say, do the moon-tears sing at each full moon, or only when both moons are full?"

"Each full moon," Eek managed to squeeze out a full mouth. He had spied Sarah's baskets with baked goods, and practically inhaled a shortcake tart from the heap. "But sing better when both moons are full."

"Now remember, Eek, only one! Well, perhaps two. But we need to sell some on the market today, so don't leave any paw prints on the glazing. And give one to Ankimo as well, you greedy little rascal."

With a smile Sarah walked up to the mill. As she drank the offered mug of larak, she entered a good-natured bout of haggling on the price of the obviously inferior flour she had just loaded, explaining in lurid detail how the astronomical prices the miller charged for goods that could never be resold at a profit would drive her into the poor house within weeks, if not to her early grave from destitution. She had had dealings with Sulio since she had taken up trading for a living years ago, so the miller answered dryly that she looked quite alive considering how long she'd bought his flour now, the best she could get anywhere in the goblin kingdom as well she knew. Another two mugs of larak later she had managed to lower his price by two farthing for each sack of flour, which he told her he did from the goodness of his heart, because he could not stand to take more money from such a hardworking old dwarf lady like her, even if it were his ruin. The parted on excellent terms as always, both of them well content with their business.

As Sarah walked back to her caravan, Three and Shuck ran up to her from their sleeping spot underneath the caravan as if she had been gone for ages. The labyrinth had brought Isshy and her dogs over to the underground with her, but after only the scantest of explanations she refused to hear further as to their whereabouts during the time the labyrinth had decided the queen needed training. It gave her headaches. As far as Sarah was concerned, her animal were returned to her once she started her own life in the underground, and it was all she really wanted to know. While Isshy had gone off on her own and only came for visits, if quite regularly, when she expected to be fed and petted and be made much of, the dogs were her constant companions. The magic of the labyrinth kept the animals hale and strong, with the energy of puppies, and if she understood correctly they would be with her for many more decades before they died. Back in the above, her one complaint about pets had been how short their life spans were compared to that of their owners, yet it had been a regret considerably leavened by the suffering of so many dogs and cats she'd seen in her office, mistreated and neglected by those who should have loved them. For many pets a short life had been the best thing you could hope for. She was brought out of her reverie by Shuck, who like any lab was hunger - or rather greed - on paws, trying to push his nose into her skirt pockets. As far as her dogs were concerned, her short stature was a good thing. She still smelled the same, but now it was pretty easy to lick her face and her pockets were easy to nose - change had done her good. She fed them some treats she always carried in her pockets - after all, you never knew when you'd come across a child, a goblin or a dog. Luckily, they all tended to like the same things.

* * *

Not for the first time she pondered how much her life had changed since she had come to the labyrinth as its chosen. At first immortality had seemed the scariest part of the labyrinth's invitation, as she had been rather sure that forever was a very long time indeed, and probably a whole lot longer than she could possibly stand. She had been easily bored in her human life already, which explained her expertise in countless generally useless skills like contact juggling, Thai cooking, ballroom dancing, as well as a mastery of Latin and, not that she had ever admitted it to even her friends, Elvish. Well, THAT had proven to be an utter waste of time, now that she lived among the real thing. Tolkien's elves spoke a lovely, melodious language, but in the reality of the underground, magic acted as a translation device, and as far as she was concerned, everyone seemed to speak perfectly good English. Unexpectedly, sign-language had proven a godsend to talk to Ankimo in the company of strangers - everyone knew that hundun had no voice, so it was the perfect disguise for Nehorai. It did not hurt that hundun were exceedingly fierce, so even the most suicidal of thieves was going to think twice about bothering her. The presence of Ankimo-who-was-Nehorai practically guaranteed her safety, and the labyrinth had been quite insistent on his company. And so sign-language had proven useful even though she had considered it one of her more useless skills. She did not think, however, that her abilities in falconry were ever going to do her any good. And so to her surprise eternity did not loom as terrible as she had feared, she had indeed lost track of time very quickly, as there never seemed enough of it.

It had taken a lot of effort to get used to the different life she had here, but Sarah knew she had been lucky, nothing but her pride rested on her success. Had she found it impossible to be make a living for herself in a strange world, she still would have been the goblin queen, loved, needed and with a lot of work on her hands. For work was just another word for goblins, as far as she was concerned. It was a good thing she had never needed much sleep, because at the end of every day she would usually spend a few hours with her goblins, listening to their stories, singing with them, scolding them when necessary, loving them and generally taking care of their needs. While she loved it, it was work still, as taking care of a babe was work, if gladly performed. And it came on top of the work she did during the day to keep herself going. Sarah might not have needed to labor for a living, but she was proud to know she could well look after herself. It made for a lot of background rumbling in her mind as the labyrinth tried to convince her to live the life it felt the goblin queen should live, concentrating on her dreams and the goblins. Sarah suspected that a life of leisure would not suit her, and indeed might make eternity seem much too long to be tolerated. A busy life had convinced her that nothing made time fly as fast as keeping occupied. Only now time was not running away from her - there were more tomorrows than she could count, and she had become glad of it. She had been in the underground for decades, yet she knew she had just begun to see even part of the goblin kingdom. She could barely wait for the rest of her life.

A distracted glance at her caravan convinced her it was time to give it a new coat of color, the old paint was peeling at the bottom of the boards, and she had tired of the royal blue color anyway. She decided to be going for vermillion this time, with many gold stars painted on it, and the canvas covering would be of the palest blue, with flowers all over. And green spokes on the wheels, woven with silver bands. She cocked her head in happy thought. Some might think it was a tad loud, but everyone knew it was her when her caravan came up to a village. Nobody painted their cart the way she did. Sarah told herself it was just a way to practice her use of the labyrinth's magic, for she still found it confoundingly difficult to use magic in any sensible way, having no comparison on how to do it right, or even what right was. But truth be told, she simply loved the bold colors and the loud patterns, and her caravan gave her an excuse to go as wild with color as she dared.

It was a pity that Lazarus got stubborn to the point of refusing to follow her directions whenever she tried a magical dye job on his coat. She could not understand why, the short, grey fur on his solid body just called out for beautification. Sarah put her fingers into her mouth and called to him with an earsplitting whistle. As she took the bit from the post and picked up the harness, the donkey ambled from the meadow up to her and pushed his head into the groove between her body and arm. She turned around and petted and cooed to him, then put the harness over his head and fixed it to his barrel chest, then walked him to the cart and fixed the harness to the cart shaft. Finally she put the bit on his head and carefully disentangled the reigns. Sarah never used a mouthpiece, she had seen too many draught animals with torn mouths, and animals had all her live willingly done her bidding without the need of a mouthpiece to force them where they would not go on their own. She snorted as she recalled how she had found him. Back then, she had just decided that she wanted to go a-wandering and had finally put away enough money to search for a caravan and a dray horse. Now THAT had worked out well, she though dryly as she climbed onto the driver's bench of the caravan. Dray horse, my ass. She had saved the donkey from a knacker. His resigned eyes had drawn her as she was passing by the man dragging the donkey behind him as she had been searching for a good animal to pull a cart, and while he was nothing but skin and bone, neither did the knacker ask for a lot of coin for an animal headed for the sausage. Coaxing the pitiful donkey back to health had postponed her plans for several months, but she though contentedly that it had been well worth the wait. Lazarus had turned out a gentle and obliging donkey of superior strength and willingness, and if his stubborn streak occasionally came through she willingly obliged his whims until he was ready to cooperate with her again. Laughingly she gave a crack of the horse whip over Lazarus' head. She'd bought the whip since she liked the look of it, but could never bring herself to actually use it on an animal. She had however gotten very good at making it go it exactly where she wanted it, even if it wasn't the donkey's back, and it made great sounds. Learning how to use the whip well enough to make Indiana Jones jealous had kept her happily entertained for countless hours on the empty road, and she held out hope that one day it might come in handy.

* * *

Sarah's caravan made its way on the king's road to the weekly market at the city wall of the goblin city with no attention of her at all. It had taken her very little time to appreciate the advantages of being pulled by an animal, as driving under the influence or when asleep was definitely not a problem when your donkey knew the way home. Lazarus did not need constant attention to stay on the road, and when he knew where he was going, it left her to chat with Ankimo, hands gesticulating wildly and quite unable to hold the reins, or talk with Eek or whatever goblin might be visiting with nary any attention on the road. It nearly made up for the lack of modern suspension on the cart, although after a long day of traveling, after nearly having been rattled to death she was usually disinclined to agree with that sentiment. Her gypsy wagon had the best suspension money could buy in the underground, made of the finest hardwood, but she did not feel it was up to the cushioning abilities of proper steel. Yet since cold iron was a deadly poison to most kindreds in the underground, the development of comfortable travel had reached its limits pretty early.

As traffic picked up as they got closer to the goblin city, a quick look over her shoulder reassured Sarah that Eek had gone. She did not dare having him around in public, there was always the risk that someone might recognize the queen's goblin, and that just would not do. Travelers on the road called out greetings to the woman on the coachman's seat, her colorful wagon well-known to people. Sarah answered her greetings and at some point stopped to invite a familiar dusty gnome peddler to join her on the cart. With a grunt Ankimo climbed to the back of the caravan and lay down on the blankets. Shuck and Three did not need more invitation and jumped into the back of the caravan to join him, all three asleep in just moments. Sarah and the gnome Andreu were soon in deep conversation as she described to him detail the tools she wanted him to get her. Andreu was selling the wares of the gnome smiths in the Simien mountains all over the goblin kingdom, and he took specialty orders. In the beginning Sarah had used bronze tools for her doctoring, but she was less than happy with the soft metal. The scalpels did not hold their edge as she wanted them to, and most tools were just not up to her high standards from the above. Things had happily changed when she happened across Andreu. The gnomes and dwarves of the underground could use iron without any ill effects and were renowned as metal workers, but they reached the height of their skills when working with cobalt, a metal not found in pure form in the above but abundantly common in the underground, a metal which had no ill effect on the kindreds. Cobalt could not be used for crude tasks like tree cutting or digging holes, but it made deadly blades of midnight blue for dirks, swords and protective chain maille, harder, tougher and more resilient than steel ever was. While Sarah now was the proud owner of iron axes and shovels for the hard labor, she used fine tools made of cobalt, superior to even stainless steel, and had begun to acquire a whole doctor's set of tools which she kept adding to whenever she met the gnome peddler, paid for in advance as she knew she could trust the peddler. When they reached the goblin city, Andreu helped her and Ankimo carry the sacks of flour to the baker's storage shed and bid her goodbye. Sarah finished her dealings with the baker and walked back to her cart, taking in the crowd with pleasure.

* * *

When the labyrinth had brought her home to the underground and made her its queen, she had gained the immortality of the fae and the use of all the magical power of the labyrinth. While this made her more powerful than even the fae with their inborn magic, she still lacked the skills to use the magic on more but an instinctive level. She was however human, and would remain so until the end of her days. Only children turned fae in the underground, for once a sentient being was an adult it could not change its nature. Only few adult humans ever came to the underground of their own volition and stayed, and as a group they were not highly regarded in the underground, especially not among the fae. Some of the humans even lived their lives as pampered pets of fae who were charmed and attracted by their difference from fae perfection, but they were never considered equals as their magic was usually very weak and their emotions were considered violent and intractable. Sarah had not cared be noticed and commented on as the human goblin queen, her every action observed and dissected, her every misstep fodder for disdain. Her first condition for joining with the labyrinth had been that she would live her life by her own choices and decisions, and the labyrinth would let her be, whatever its own wishes were. She was going to be the best goblin queen she could, but she would live by her own rules. Since she had a mind to live her life quietly and unknown, as far away from the eyes of the fae as possible, she could not live as a human. Remembering her old friend Hoggle, she had asked the labyrinth to disguise her as an elderly dwarf woman, knowing full well she would not stand out from the many thousand new denizens of the goblin kingdom under such a disguise. Unconsciously she had assumed that a dwarf woman would look like Hoggle, with longer hair, and had been quite surprised when she had first spied herself in a looking glass. Dwarf women were far more graceful than their menfolk, and while they did not grow above four foot, their bodies, while strong, were supple and elegant, their skin like cinnamon velvet. The labyrinth had shaped her as a woman in the last quarter of her life, and Sarah thought that if humans managed to age so pleasingly plastic surgery would not have been invented. With wide-set eyes and a wide laughing mouth in a strong-boned face Sarah found herself handsome, and the lines around her eyes and mouth were familiar and comfortable. Breaking with tradition, she had cut her salt-and-pepper hair short in a pixie haircut. She went by the old-fashioned dwarvish name of Eir.

Yet even looking as unobtrusive as she did, she realized quickly that trying to blend into teeming crowd of the goblin kingdom would have been a lot easier had she grown up in a country that hadn't given up markets and haggling for supermarkets and debit cards. In the beginning, when she had no idea how to get a good price and simply paid the first sum that was asked, she was taken advantage of mercilessly. The coin pouch at her belt never emptied by the grace of the labyrinth, yet it rankled being taken for a ride, ignorant, helpless, a useless fool. Sarah found to her chagrin that all her understanding of magic and the rules of the underground were no help in navigating everyday life unless she was prepared to pull out all stops and use magic every step of the way. Considering that she had the power to do so, but none of the skill required, this was not much of an alternative. A kindly gnome trader took pity on the desperate dwarf woman and in exchange for food and a bed at night she ran his errands, from picking up merchandise to cooking dinner. Sara had ever been a smart and determined woman, and she learned the lessons needed to survive fast and well, as she had learned all lessons before. Thus it did not take her long to realize that she would be able to make a living at many things, and in the end she settled on starting out with trading, which she had found she had both a talent and a liking for, and on attending to the illnesses of those she encountered in the scattered settlements she traveled for her trading. Her training as a vet, aided by the unconscious magic that was part of her now, was most advantageous when facing the ailments of the poorer kindreds as well as their livestock and pets who did not have access to the healers that treated the maladies of the well-to-do. As she worked all hours of the day and slowly gained acceptance and recognition as a trustworthy trader and an excellent healer, she could feel the labyrinth grumble in the back of her mind, and in her sleep she found herself defending her choices, not always as easy as she would have liked it since she never was sure whether she did the right thing. The labyrinth tried to tempt her with visions of the life she might have, a life of ease and joy, in the rightful place of the goblin queen in the castle beyond the goblin city, with all the time in the world to dream and spin the labyrinth from her imagination. Yet Sarah had gleaned enough from her constant connection to the labyrinth to understand the dangers of her new home. She knew she would be at a disadvantage in court to try to win over her new subjects when she knew still next to nothing about the underground and its denizens. She also had the strong suspicion that being queen of a country that had just gotten much bigger by one's arrival was not quite the sinecure that the labyrinth suggested. Not to even mention the thought of having to deal with the goblin king on a regular basis, a fate worse than death as far as Sarah was concerned. She had not been given to diplomacy in the above, and she was going to be damned if she started now at the onset of eternity. She was going to be free, unbound by any obligations but those imposed by love and duty, and free to act as she pleased.

* * *

/

* * *

Sarah stretched out her back like a cat. Hunching over with a pony's hoof on your knee while you were cleaning out some badly wedged-in stone was murder on the back. But she had managed to get everything out, and the judicious application of a disinfectant together with the unconscious healing magic of her hands should make sure that no infection set in. The farmer also bought the herbs for a poultice from her, so the animal should be fine again within a few days. The farmer was good-naturedly haggling over the price with her, and finally left happily after paying her a few coins. Sarah gruffly turned to her next client, a human woman with her coughing child. "I've told you, Barb, you need to see one of the healers about Elin. I'll give you more of the tea for her to drink when she finds it hard to breath, but it won't take care of what is ailing her, only make her breathing easier for a time." All the while she was talking to the woman, Sarah put her hands on the child, barely more than a toddler, and ordered her to breath deeply, cough and do various other things. Barbara always came to see the old dwarf healer who had such a way with herbs, the woman did not trust the magic healers, having been born in the above in the 1950's she had not been able to completely convince herself that magic might work better for her daughter's ailments than some tangible treatment, even though she had lived in the underground for centuries now. Sarah sighed internally. She wished she could heal the child, but she did not know how to use her magic properly to take care of the girl's troubles for good, and the labyrinth could only supply her with its power, but not with the control to use it. Elin was suffering from asthma, and every time Sarah saw her she went through a lengthy rigmarole of physical examinations that allowed her to keep her hands on the girl's skin as much as possible since her unconscious magic seemed to work best. Elin was symptom-free for weeks every time she had seen Sarah, and Sarah made sure Barb always had a generous supply of larak beans at hand to brew a tea for the girl when her magic wore off. Larak beans were not commonly used for consumption since it was the leaves of the larak bush that produced the aromatic and stimulant tea, the seeds of the shrub were bitter and only used for treatment for lung and heart ailments. The beans contained high doses of theophylline, and a tea made of the ground-up beans opened the girl's airways when her breathing became labored in an asthma attack, however the tea had side-effects that Sarah wished to spare the girl. Sarah turned determinedly to the Barbara. She had reached the end of her endurance, that woman would have tried the patience of a saint. It was obvious that she was not amenable to kind entreaties. "I will not take your money for the beans, Barb," she looked at the worried mother grimly. "I have told you too many times that the king's healers can make her well if you will just swallow your dumb prejudices and bring Elin to the healer's consultations. You know as well as I do that they are open to everyone every tenday in the courtyard of the castle. I am tired of helping you make your daughter suffer unnecessarily when she could be as well as other children. I will not help you again if you see me the next time because she cannot breathe right. You have been here for long enough to know that only magic can help her, but you are just being a selfish, stubborn human, too dumb to do what is right even though your daughter pays the price." Barbara began to wail how well Elin always felt after she had seen the dwarf healer, but Sarah was having none of it. "Elin is getting worse. Some day soon she will find it difficult to breathe, and the tea will not help. She will suffocate, slowly and painfully, as you look on because you were willfully ignorant. I do not care to see your face again here, Barb, unless it is for buying my cakes or some other complaint but Elin's breathing." Sarah looked up at the other woman with fury in her eyes. "If you do not get Elin to the healers by the next market day, I will lodge a complaint with the city council against you, Barb. Mothers have no more right than anyone else to hurt children. There are many people who would do anything to have a child of their own, and Elin is such a lovable child," she finished threateningly. Barbara looked at her in horror and picked up her daughter, turning on her heels to vanish in the crowd. "By the next market day, Barb," Sarah called after her. As she put away her herbs into the chest, a man's voice addressed her from behind.

"That was rather cruel, don't you think? I would imagine there must be a better way of getting a scared woman to seek help for her child." Sarah carefully finished sorting in the herbs, it would certainly not do to mix them up, and slammed the lid shut.

"And what would you know about that?" she growled viciously, her voice low and angry, turning to her interrogator with her fists on her hips, and looked over the young man who had addressed her. Damn it, she should have known it was a fae, with a voice like that, pure caramel. Sarah looked him over furiously from head to toes and felt her anger drain out of her. God, but was she glad that the fear, loathing and attraction she had felt long ago for the goblin king had obviously been the effect of her overheated teenage hormones. This young man was the loveliest creature she had ever seen, but he did not make her feel weird all over, and he did not scare the living daylights out of her either. Tall and slender as all fae he did not seem completely at ease with himself however, moving his limbs like a colt, a young man yet then. His smiling face was square-jawed and strong, with open grey eyes and beautiful mane of honey-colored hair falling in a long braid over his shoulder, and he looked at her with an apologetic expression in his face.

"I did not mean to insult you, lady," he said with honest embarrassment in his voice, "I just happened to overhear the end of the conversation, and it simply struck me how threatening a mother might not be the wisest way of proceeding when you want something done. I must apologize for intruding on what is none of my concern." While the young man was speaking, the direwolf who had ambled up to his side looked towards Sarah with what seemed like a grin on his muzzle and, sniffing the air with an interested glint in his eye, he ran up to her like a puppy and pushed his head searchingly into her pockets as the young fae let out a loud shout and ran forward to stop his wolf from attacking the woman. He stopped dumbfounded when he saw the old dwarf woman push Cuchulain's head to the side without a worry and begin to scratch the direwolf behind the ears, the animal closing its eyes and leaning into her touch with relish. The young man looked at her with utter astonishment. "I have never seen him do this, lady, he is usually much better behaved than this," and he cringed in embarrassment as the direwolf unabashedly pushed his long nose into the woman's voluminous skirt pockets. The woman just laughed and pushed the wolf back and bid him to sit with a sharp order, rooted around in her pockets and fished a piece of dried meat from their depths which she fed to the huge wolf who sat obediently before her like a ladies pet and drooled as he followed her every movement with his eyes.

"Don't fret, love," Sarah said to the blushing young man in a hugely improved mood. "Nobody can be held responsible for the greed of a dog or wolf, their hunger is a force untamable by any." Her voice was still low and dark, much deeper than most women's voices, but all anger had left it, and Toby found himself drawn to her. "You only heard the end of a conversation that has been going on for much too long, and a child suffering for it." For a moment her voice hardened again. "Barbara is too narrow-minded to ask the healer for her sick child, but Elin will not get better unless they magic her. I have tried everything I could to get her to bring the child to the healers, but she will not hear. If she will not do what is right by her daughter, she does not deserve her." The old dwarf woman suddenly grinned at him blindingly. "My name is Eir, and I am the healer for the animals and any in the countryside who cannot go to the healers in the city." She extended her hand to the young fae. He smiled at her and courteously shook her hand, then he stepped back and executed a bow fit for a queen.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady Eir, and if I may introduce myself to you, my name is Tobias O hEachtianna, a most minor and unimportant member of the court, and this rude animal that has just tried to raid you pockets is my companion Cuchulain," and he hissed at the oblivious direwolf trying to coax him to back to his side.

Sarah laughed outright. "The hound of Ulster? Good name for one such as him. I did not know that direwolves ever attached themselves to people, but I believe he would not stay with you if you were not a good companion. But come on, boy, I have already fed your wolf, so I believe it is just right that you should get your due as well. And I think I need to introduce your Cuchulain to my dogs, just so he knows they are mine. Shuck is too stupid to understand that growling at a much bigger wolf might not be a good idea, and while Three knows better, he will still fight to defend his friend, however bad the odds."

With an impatient gesture Sarah called for Toby to follow her around the colorful caravan. On the other side big baskets with bakery goods stood on the lowered side panels of the cart, breads, small cakes and the likes stacked inside, but much of the merchandise was gone already.

Toby looked with surprise at the hundun standing before the cart, a bird-like creature with a featureless head, without eyes, nose or mouth, the heavily clawed hands gesturing in the air before Eir, and to his increasing surprise he saw her return the gestures, the hundun and the dwarf woman engaged in what looked like a conversation with their hands and arms stopping in exact positions, a strange and strangely attractive form of communication. Now that he thought of it, nobody knew how Hundun communicated, they seemed to lack all the necessary equipment. And as much as this looked like talking, how did the Hundun see anything? He didn't have eyes. Then his own eyes fell on the two dogs that had moved next to Eir's skirts, a lovely silvery white retriever and what looked like an English sheep dog - Toby felt a sudden pang of loss. Merlin had looked just like that, he thought, strange, I had forgotten all about him. I have never seen this kind of dog in the underground before. But then he realized that Cuchulain at his side had gone tense, and the dogs next to Eir were positively glaring at the direwolf. Before he could say anything, however, Eir turned away from the Hundun and grabbed her dogs by the scruff, not the easiest maneuver since they reached to her waist. With a voice that brook no resistance she made both dogs sit down and called for Cuchulain who slowly walked up to her. Toby tensed, ready to intervene physically or magically should it be necessary, but it seemed Eir had all animals well under control. She had them very carefully sniff each other and petted all of them constantly, murmuring to them in a voice too low for Toby to hear, all the while feeding them dried meat from her obviously well-stocked pockets. After a few minutes of this the hair on the back of all canines lay flat again and the tails began to wag cautiously.

With that Eir called the young fae over. "I believe some further introductions are in order," she told him with her startlingly deep voice. "This one is Three, I believe he is some kind of sheepdog, as evidenced by his tendency to nip your ankles when he feels you really should be going where he wants you to go. I found him in the foothills of the Simien mountains when he was but a pup." She broke into a infectious laugh. "You should see him around children, my lord Tobias. He obviously feels they are a flock of especially aggravating sheep, and he will make sure that none of them gets away too far. His nips can be very convincing."

As Toby went to his knees and rigorously petted the white-and-grey sheepdog, he noticed that Eir was busy scratching the ears of the other two animals, obviously to keep them from being jealous. That woman certainly had a knack for getting animals to do her bidding. "I am much too unimportant a person to be addressed by so exalted a title, my lady Eir, and I have reached my maturity only recently, so I would be honored if you would call me Toby, as all my friends do." He saw a sudden shadow fall over Eir's features, a fleeting sadness.

"I knew someone called Toby once," Sarah said softly, half to herself. As she noticed the concerned face of the comely young fae looking at her from the side, she smiled. Just as Toby would have gotten such a thrill out of knowing a goblin wore his clothes, she thought he would have thought it a really cool thing to know that a fae had his name. "Toby it is then, but only if you will call me Eir. I am no lady, and I just feel old and foolish if you call me so. Now, Toby, let me introduce you to Shuck here, he is lovely, sweet and very stupid," and with a grin Eir walked up to him and put a few pieces of dried meat in his hands. "If you feed Shuck, you will have a friend for life. And just to be sure that Cuchulain doesn't get pissy, feed him too. And Three. I've never know a dog that cannot be bribed."

As Toby fed the direwolf and the dogs crowding around him, he looked down shyly on Eir. "I did not mean to cause you any distress, lady ... ehm... Eir. And I certainly did not want to make you do anything you do not care to do. If you rather addressed me as Tobias, please, do so by all means."

Sarah smiled at the disconcerted young man and calmed his worries with gentle words. "Do not worry yourself so, Toby, you have not caused me any distress. It is only an old memory. Don't we all have memories that sometimes may cause us a moment of anguish? It is what comes from living - only those who have wasted their lives without love have nothing to regret."

Toby looked at Eir and smiled back at her. Had he not just looked at Three and felt sharp regret for the past? He might be young and inexperienced, but he knew what the dwarf woman was talking about.

"Now, I believe you have to learn about my real talent, which would be baking," Sarah's cheerful voice interrupted his thoughts as she handed him a fruit tart. "Let me first introduce you to my friend Ankimo. I met him before I came to the goblin kingdom and we decided to travel together. The two of us make an excellent team. We earn our money together, I make a little extra with healing, and he makes sure we keep it safe from anyone who would want to liberate it. We have learned to communicate by gestures, and we keep getting better by the day." As Toby opened his mouth to ask about how Ankimo could see without eyes, Sarah continued. "I cannot be sure what you want to ask, but I suspect like everyone else you want to know how he can see my gestures, or, if he can see them, why doesn't he simply talk?" When she saw his look of confirmation, she continued. "I have absolutely no idea how he does it, nor does he. He can see, always could, and he cannot quite understand how other kindreds need something like eyes." Ankimo came up to the young fae and put his hand up from his forehead and outwards from his face in a downward fashion. "That meant hello, by the way." Toby smiled and copied the movement back. Sarah smiled quietly. "And now you need to try my other famous cakes. People come from all around to buy my pastries, but I'll let you try one of each, completely free of charge. Simply because you are such a nice boy."

* * *

"What a perfectly lovely offer, Tobias. You should take the lady up on it before she changes her mind." The amused voice behind her back made Sarah's blood run cold. Please no, let it be someone else, she silently prayed as she turned around. It was him. She should never have come to the bloody market in the bloody city in the first place, she just should have know this would happen some day, she harangued herself. Not letting her jaw drop open was about all she could do. Damn, damn, damn, it had not been her youthful hormones. The goblin king before her sure was a sight for sore eyes, with the inevitable narrow pants in a pale color that showed his leg muscles rather too well, a beautiful linen shirt open low over a lightly muscled chest Sarah most determinedly was not looking at, a dark green riding jacket open over his shirt. For a moment Sarah gave thanks to her lucky stars that she wasn't a foot shorter. As it was, it was hard enough to keep looking UP at him. Sarah concentrated hard on the fact that a man advertising like a bloody peacock probably needed to and completely ignored the fact that she had not even noticed that Toby was wearing the same kind of pants and shirt as the goblin king. And that presumptuous smile on his arrogant face! Oh, so they were mismatched eyes, she had never been sure whether her memory had served her right. One of then was a mixture of grey and blue, the other nearly black with a light green ring at the outer perimeter. As she was slowly building up enough steam to survive the next couple of minutes, she barely noticed the goblin king's companions, another fae a tad shorter than the goblin king, but with a fighter's body, his midnight-black hair loosely tied back at his neck and a good-looking dwarf and his lady in elegant clothes that clearly bespoke them as members of the court. The dark-haired man was more beautiful than the goblin king if looking as if cast from the same die, yet Sarah barely noticed him. That bastard's face still haunted her dreams, narrow and angular with those sharp cheekbones and a nose like a knife, the wide, thin-lipped smile of arrogant superiority, and his strange white-gold hair standing on edge. She had thought she'd forgotten him, but it seemed she had been wrong. The memory had but gone underground. Luckily for Sarah all these thoughts went thorough her mind in barely any time at all, and despite the fact that she gave the king a good once-over scarce more than a moment had passed.

Her voice as low as anger had ever made it and as cold as winter, she managed to choke out a nearly polite greeting. "Greetings, my lady, my lords." She bowed perfunctorily to the small group before her caravan and looked up at the goblin king with narrowed eyes. "And let me tell you, I never change my mind once I have made it up. I know a nice young fae when I see him, so why would I begrudge him some cake I offered him of my own free will?"

Sarah turned her back on him with some asperity and walked to the baskets, closely followed by her dogs and the direwolf who were determined to get their share and kept pushing their noses against Sarah's back, yipping excitedly and nearly climbing over each other as they tried to get to the optimal spot. For a moment Sarah forgot the fae behind her back as the simple love of the animals flooded her mind, and with a light laugh she grabbed some broken pastries and fed a piece to each of the animals, her movements fluid and graceful, her voice gentle. But then awareness came flooding back and Sarah tensed again, her face set in mulish determination. She wrapped an especially nice tart in a piece of paper and handed it to Toby as she walked back. She proceeded to stand next to the young fae, her arms folded over her chest, and glared silently at the group before her cart.

While the faces of the dark-haired fae and the dwarves expressed indignation, the goblin king seemed highly amused. "Your judgment of young Tobias' character is perfectly accurate, my lady, yet I doubt it is well-advised to make up one's mind without recourse to changing it, should the need arise. Pray tell me, lady, have you never misjudged anyone before?" Sarah's eyes flashed and she got ready to give him an earful when he held up his hand. "Why don't we continue this conversation while we are eating some of these delicious-looking tarts? I am sure we would all like some." Impatiently Sarah turned around and exchanged some quick gestures with Ankimo, who put several pastries in paper and brought them to the little group. "I do not believe I have ever had the pleasure of meeting a hundun before," the goblin king said musingly as he gracefully took a pastry out of Ankimo's hands. "So you do converse with your hands, my lady?"

Sarah looked at him with some satisfaction. After all, that had been the idea, Nehorai who sang the night needed to be transformed completely and beyond a chance of recognition, so what better than turning him to that which none had ever seen? "We are from out-country, and as you so brilliantly observed, yes, we do talk with our hands. Seeing as he's lacking a voice." she said curtly without any further explanation. "And that would be four coppers for the cakes."

Porr pushed himself before the defiant woman and addressed her with barely suppressed anger. "Have you no idea whom you are talking to, woman? How dare you talk to us with such familiarity?"

Before he had a chance to go on, Sarah cut in with a voice a sharp as shards. "As far as I can tell you are a bunch of well-dressed loafers who would steal from a poor woman working hard for her living. I don't care who you are, you are eating my food and I don't run a charity here. Or is four coppers more than you can spare?"

Tiernan moved closer and looked down at the short woman who stared back up into his eyes without the slightest bit of fear or hesitation. "You might want to change you tone, trader, when you talk to your betters," he said with an indolent smile. "If your king deigns your food edible, you should feel flattered. It is generally said that dwarves understand manners, but yours seem to be lacking sadly."

Sarah was beyond all caring. Meeting the goblin king without any preparation had thrown her off-kilter already, but those other jerks had raised her temper to boiling. She spat on the ground, a hair's breadth next to the dark-haired fae's foot. "My manners are none of your bloody problem, fae. And since you obviously consider it proper manners to treat me like a piece of dirt under your feet, I wonder what your basis for comparison is? I have no king, and I never will. I'd rather go on to the other side before I swore myself to anyone who will not swear the very same oath to me." Her eyes were flashing with anger. "I am paying the city council for this spot in the market to sell my wares, and I have as much right to be here as anyone. If you don't like it, just sod off. But pay me what you owe me first, fae, else you're nothing but a thieving bully and I will call the guards on you. Are you telling me the king does not have to pay? Perhaps you are in the wrong kingdom, fae, it seems you would do just fine in Ardar Iforas. And what would make such as you, fae, think you are my better is beyond me." Tiernan seemed struck numb and stared at the furious woman growling at him with helpless fascination.

The goblin king had no such compunction. He walked up to the livid woman and smiled down at her with true amusement. "Ah, my lady, please, do not give yourself a bout of apoplexy. Not only will you be paid for your pastries, I actually would like to request a basket of them to be delivered to the castle whenever you make them. They are excellent indeed, and I would love to continue this delightful acquaintance. It has been such a long time since anyone has been able to strike Tiernan wordless, and it is a treat I would not mind to see repeated." He looked at her shrewdly, his head aslant. "Please accept my condolences for any mistreatments you may have endured before you came to the goblin kingdom, but lady, be assured that none is above the law within my borders, as I am sure you know. The law applies to all within my borders, be they oathbound to me or not, lady, and the law knows no difference between the kindreds, and neither do I. Yet do not be angry with my companions, lady, they are but defending me, although why they should feel the need to do so is beyond my understanding," and with this remark he threw a dark glower at his retinue.

His reasonable, courteous, even kindly words resonated within her, and Sarah felt her anger deflate however much she tried to hold on to it. "We'll see how that plays out," she said as gruffly as she could and held out her hand to the goblin king. "But that would still be four coppers."

He handed her a small gold coin which Sarah promptly bit into. Toby looked amused and mortified at the same time, the two men in the king's company just seemed affronted, and the dwarf lady flashed her a smile while the goblin king threw his head back and laughed out loud. "Please, lady, by all means tell me if it is fake gold," he said with laughter in his voice. "I'd really need to have a word with my treasurer if there is a problem with this coin." Against her will Sarah grinned at him for a split second, since his coins as much as hers came from the labyrinth, they were reliably pure and not cut with lesser metals. "And now, if you please, lady, we would like some more of the pastries," the goblin king said with a smile. As Sarah handed out more of the pastries, they fell into a strange conversation, with Sarah countering the goblin king's each remark with her most acerbic and bitchy responses, which seemed to entertain him to no end and wound Sarah up ever tighter. His companions ended up listening to their repartees as if they were watching a match, amused and slightly offended for their king at the same time. When they finally left, after Sarah had promised to deliver pastries to the castle whenever she came to market, she turned to Ankimo tiredly. "What the hell have I gotten myself into, my friend?" she asked him with a shake of her head, signing away furiously. "Well, at least he is not as bad as I had been expecting. It seems he is a pretty decent king, I probably should have know that anyway. I mean, he is the chosen and all that." She grinned. "I guess he is keeping his nastier side for the runners and for the goblin queen. I can deal with him as Eir, but lets make sure he never meets Sarah, shall we?"

The rest of the afternoon passed quickly, with more patients for Sarah, and when the market closed Ankimo and Sarah climbed on the cart, more than ready to go home. It had been a long day.


	9. Chapter 8

CHAPTER VIII

Soon after Eir had met the goblin king in the market, Sarah first joined the war council. While the attacks on the goblin kingdom had greatly diminished in the last years, they had not ceased, and the threat to the goblin kingdom and its citizens was not vanquished. Sarah knew that the days of keeping herself apart were over, the labyrinth and its chosen needed to stand together to fight the darkness that threatened them, and it was time to begin working with the goblin king. She didn't have to like it though.

And indeed she did not. It had been any bit as infuriating as she had expected. Jareth had long accepted that the labyrinth's human chosen was as powerful as she was resourceful, and his close bond with the labyrinth made him realize that her human background added a layer of experience and depth that, while alien to the underground, was invaluable and precious to the labyrinth. None of which made a whit of a difference in his demeanor towards her. Sarah never realized that Jareth's highhandedness and his unconscious arrogance had nothing to do with any personal disdain for her, but was rather the natural if overbearing behavior of a supremely confident and self-assured man who was used to things going his way, a man who had everyone falling in line with his wishes mostly because it was easier to give in to his overpowering personality than to fight. He certainly was not used to anyone his equal in power who would not cede a single step to him, nor to any woman who would not be seduced if he but gave it a try.

* * *

Sarah's first council meeting could not be called productive. She arrived in the goblin throne room arrayed in the finery the goblin queen wore to face a runner, darkly alluring, menacing and powerful, as always surrounded by a passel of goblins. As far as she was concerned, she needed any advantage she could get, and a look that screamed 'goblin queen' just had to be better than one that whimpered 'human'. A few decades bound to the labyrinth had given her more than enough confidence to forgo the goblin mask to cover her features - if they didn't like it, sod 'em. She knew that compared to fae she still looked like a scrub, but she had the confidence of her power and her position. Sarah schooled her face to be cold and give away nothing. She was the queen, and they better gave her that respect. Her entry was suitably impressive as far as these things go, the councilors knew her in their very blood for who she was the moment she walked in, and without a moments' delay they fell into the obeisance due the goblin queen, their faces aglow with honest joy. The goblin king was another matter. Rising from his chair, he walked over to Sarah with the grace of a hunting panther, radiating predatory charm as he smiled at the queen with intent. Sarah felt the same frisson she had in the market when Jareth came close to her and she pulled back her shoulders, her back ramrod straight, and smiled her brightest, most insincere smile at the goblin king.

"We are honored by your presence, my queen," he purred with a silken voice that raised every hair on her body, closing in on her and invading her private space without a second thought, stilling but a step away from her motionless form. "To what fortunate circumstances do we owe the pleasure of your presence?" Sarah felt his honeyed voice caress her as his mismatched eyes looked her over appreciatively. His mouth curved into a seductive smile as he raised his hand and brushed away a wild lock of short dark hair that had fallen over her cheek, his fingertips brushing completely un-accidentally against the skin of her cheek bone. Sarah felt the heat rise in her face as the feathery brush of his fingers left her skin tingling and ruthlessly squashed a sudden impulse to lean into his touch.

Outwardly calm and unperturbed she stepped back a step and smiled mockingly at the goblin king. "It gladdens my heart to receive such a ... warm welcome, goblin king. I had certainly hoped that your manners had improved since your unwarrantedly rude letter, after I so politely introduced myself to your court all this time ago. Had I but known that you were able to be so gracious to the labyrinth's queen, I should have come to the war council much earlier." The smile on Jareth's face lost all seductiveness and became downright threatening. Sarah kept her face impassive as she hid her inner turmoil behind the most formal words she had ever used in her life to anybody's face. She threw her head back slightly and shifted her weight, resting her hand on her hip. She coolly assessed the goblin king from head to toe and, hoping that her acting skills would not betray her, made her face show a hint of disappointment, as if in her mind she had weighed an adversary and found him lacking.

Jareth was furious beyond words - how dare this human chit scold him and worse, judge him? He conveniently choose to ignore the niggling voice in the back of his mind that told him that she had a point. The goblin queen's unexpected arrival and her subsequent show of obeisance when he had sat in court soon after the binding had disconcerted but impressed him, and it had wakened a sudden desire in him to keep her close. A woman who could impress him would most certainly make an excellent goblin queen at his side in the castle beyond the goblin city. Useful. On his terms, of course. Sarah's fears of the goblin king, when she had first come to the goblin kingdom, had to some degree been correct, for while Jareth was not an evil man and would not have forced or mistreated her, he would have used all his considerable experience, his charm and whatever manipulations he'd consider necessary to have the goblin queen do his bidding. For her own good, of course, for an inexperienced human would obviously need help to adapt to her new life as the labyrinth's chosen. And who better to shape her than the goblin king?

Sarah's cool disdain and her careless defiance as she faced him now was not something Jareth had encountered much in his life. The son of the Ard Ri and the queen Eriu, a powerful mage in his own right even before he had been chosen, he was accustomed to respect and admiration and had rarely been crossed in his desires, and the goblin king had never faced any resistance in his demesne. Jareth did not take well to being crossed, and he was not planning to begin now.

With a practiced guileless smile that would have made a lesser woman shake in her shoes, he offered his arm to the goblin queen. "I shall consider myself grateful that you have forgiven me, my lady. Let me introduce you to the councilors."

* * *

Sarah resolutely kept the smile glued to her face as she gracefully laid her fingers on the offered arm of the goblin king as they walked to the councilors who seemed clearly amused by their exchange. Jareth's introductions were graceful and imparted just the right amount of information and praise for the councilors, and Sarah accepted the introductions with equal aplomb. Porr was painfully polite and accommodating, and Sarah realized that his friendship with the king inclined him to treat her with some weariness.

No such reservations were discernible on the part of the other councilors. Sarah recognized the quiet, unassuming beauty of the dwarf lady that had accompanied the king in the market, the lady Sindri, the dwarf woman's courtly demeanor belied by the laughter in her eyes and the smile on her generous mouth. It seemed that she might find an ally there, as Sindri seemed amused at her little altercation with the king.

Sarah saw the young fae Toby among the councilors, and while she was surprised that a young, and as he had told her unimportant, member of the court should be a councilor, she was glad to know him there as she had taken a strong liking to the young man. She had seen a good bit of Toby in the preceding weeks as he had become a regular visitor to her market stall for long afternoons, and not only had he as much a liking for her pastries as his direwolf, he was a bottomless source of good-natured information about the fae and the court of the goblin king. It pained Sarah that she had to deceive him, but of necessity she kept her life as Sarah and as Eir strictly apart.

She had not met the lord Ningyo nor the odein 'Lo lani before, but she was well inclined towards their open smiles and honest welcomes.

Accepting Ikiaq's bow was the hardest - when Sarah worked in the kitchens as Eir every sennight, to bake pastries for the king's table, the castellaine welcomed her and made sure she never left the castle without generous provisions and small practical gifts that she valued highly, like a jar of fire ointment or a bag of lillok seeds. As Eir she had had many long conversations with the castellaine and found her herb lore and her knowledge of the ailments of many kindreds an valuable resource for her work as a healer on the road.

So, when Ikiaq and Toby addressed her as "your majesty", as probably was her rightful title, Sarah objected. "I would ask you not to address me as majesty. It is the title of a ruler, which I am not. I am the goblin queen, but the ruler of the goblin kingdom is the goblin king. I have no part in the ruling, nor do I want it. I would beg you to call me by my name, Sarah." She obviously had not thought this through completely, she thought with gritted teeth as the goblin king smiled at her possessively. Her attention riveted on Jareth, she missed the shadow of sadness that crossed Toby's features.

"Sarah suits you very well, my dear. A strong name for a strong queen," and he put his hand on her bare shoulder. Sarah fought a strong spell of dizziness threatening to overcome her and glared at the goblin king. She was glad that her voice sounded unaffected even though she had to force the words out of suddenly dry mouth. "Considering that I had no choice in my naming, that strikes me as a rather senseless remark, goblin king." She stared pointedly at his hand on her shoulder. "Are you quite attached to this hand, or will I take it off?" It came out more of a snarl than she had intended.

With a taunting smile Jareth slowly moved his hand off her shoulder, caressing the skin down her arm as he did so. "Do I make you nervous, my dear Sarah? Nothing could be further from my intentions."

Yeah right, Sarah thought furiously. I am sure it's all in my mind. What big teeth you have, goblin king. But she put on her best scornful smile and spoke in a voice cold enough to freeze water. "No, not nervous, goblin king. Revolted, perhaps, but not nervous. It is rather that I am afflicted by a most tiresome reaction to fae that I do try to minimize." All eyes on her, Sarah went on in her best I-just-have-to-make-the-best-of-it voice. "One of the more inconvenient side effects of being human is our reaction to fae. I believe we were bred to be attracted to fae, for how else could it be explained? I have found that however much I might loath a fae," and she kept her face pleasant and her eyes on the councilors, "my body still reacts to their presence. Male or female, kind or offensive, the beauty of the fae draws humans and causes us to react to them with pleasure, whatever I might personally think of them. Thank the night I have found that my mind is not so afflicted, and my judgment and behavior is not controlled by these rather unpleasant urges." Well, it was not technically a lie. She had found that all humans in the underground, including herself, were strongly attracted by the beauty and the allure of the fae, but she herself had never found it really difficult to deal with this appeal. For her, this glamour did not amount to more than a deep appreciation of their beauty and a tendency to instinctively think well of them, an inclination she fought by automatically assuming they were a bunch of bastards with pretty faces. It was only with Jareth that she found her physical reaction to be so overpowering.

"What a terrible affliction, my dear Sarah. How can you defend yourself against being overwhelmed by you own desires, well neigh against your will?" Jareth's solicitous voice did not match the barely concealed triumphant amusement in his voice.

"You should really try to listen to what people tell you, goblin king, and not only to what you may want to hear, " Sarah answered coldly, looking straight into his eyes. "It is a pity you cannot tell desire from a unwanted and purely physical reaction. I feel sorry for your paramours." A fleeting look of anger passed over Jareth's features. "You seem to be under the impression that base desire cannot to be dealt with, but I can tell you from experience that revulsion is a stronger emotion. And I have found that throwing up on a fae who will not understand a no is a powerful way of reducing their allure. And their desire. It is not even necessary to ask the labyrinth for help in these situations." So what if this part of the story was pure confabulation, it should work well enough to shut him up.

* * *

The meeting went downhill from this point on. It was obvious that Jareth did not believe that the goblin queen had anything to offer that he might be willing to accept. After another hour or so of trading insinuations and barely veiled insults with the goblin king Sarah had enough. "I believe, goblin king, that you may want to re-consider your attitude. I am not a mindless human doxy looking for a protector, nor a contender for any of your power. I do not need to be. Whether you like it or not, goblin king, I am your equal. My will is as strong as yours, and my kingdom is as great. I am the chosen of the labyrinth, and you have no power over me." Jareth looked at her with undisguised fury on his face. "What matter are our childish dislikes and prejudices? In these last months I have held the body of a slaughtered shedim in my arms, goblin king, and I have cradled the pitiful remains of a dwarf child that had been murdered by the white Babdh." Sarah looked Jareth straight in the eyes and stared down the wrath in his face. She did not like him anymore than he did her, but what did it matter? "I am human, and my powers are different from yours, goblin king. I do not want to be here in your castle, and I know you do not want me to hold power apart from you, yet I will do whatever is necessary to protect my own. All I said to you when you held court was true. I do not desire worldly power nor position, but I will do anything at all to protect those sworn to us." Sarah looked at him entreatingly, her voice shaking with emotion. "I swear I will give you all in my power to give, Jareth, I will go to any length necessary to keep our oath to those who swore their lives to us. Will you not do the same, goblin king?" With these words she bowed deeply in a formal curtsey, and when she rose she gave him a tired smile as she turned and walked out of the room quietly, her head held high.

Her leaving ended the meeting, the councilors left the throne room subdued and did not look into their king's eyes as they bid him goodbye. Porr alone seemed inclined to linger on, but the lady Sindri was not minded to let him, and with a sweet smile and few words she had him offer her his arm and gallantly accompany her out of the room, any words he might have had for his friend wiped from his mind as he did his best to charm the lady.

* * *

/

* * *

The goblin king took to pacing around in the throne room which was rapidly filling with goblins, called to their king by his roiling emotions and by the labyrinth who wished to give him what consolation it could. _**SARAH IS PART OF ME, AS ARE YOU.**_For the first time in eons the mind touch of the labyrinth was diffident and unsure. _**YOU HAVE TOUCHED HER PRESENCE IN ME, YOU HAVE REVELLED IN HOW I AM MORE THAN I WAS. **_The labyrinth would not betray its promises to his human chosen, but there was much truth that could be shared. _**I KNOW SHE DOUBTS AND FEARS YOU, CHOSEN, BUT SHE IS YOUNG AND INEXPERIENCED STILL. SHE BELIEVES THAT SHE IS WRONG AND SHE TRUSTS SHE WILL LEARN TO ACCEPT YOU. SHE HAS GIVEN OVER HER JUDGMENT OF YOU TO ME. **_The mind touch revealed to Jareth all the confusion and the anguish the labyrinth felt, new and unfamiliar emotions to a being that had never felt these particular notions before. _**DO YOU NOT TRUST ME ANY MORE, CHOSEN? SHE HAS NOT LIED TO YOU. **__  
_Jareth grabbed several goblins who had decided to crowd together on his throne and threw them into the crowd, then dropped into the seat unusually quiet. _I am yours forever, and I will trust your judgment before any evidence my very eyes could ever give me. I will believe in you before anyone else I have ever loved or trusted. _Without even noticing he called five crystal balls into existence and began to juggle them in his hand, the intricate movement calming him. It was a long time until he continued. _I am not used to anyone being my equal, anyone not giving in to me. She might be more than me. _He ground his teeth - he did not like to admit this even to himself.

_**YOU DO NOT THINK I AM YOU EQUAL? **_

The goblin king laughed out loud. _No. You are so much more than I or anyone could ever be. I am not YOUR equal, nor could I ever be. Your power is beyond imagination, the depth of your mind is beyond reckoning, and your fate is beyond the ken of anything as puny as me. You have honored me beyond my wildest dreams, and I will do anything you want me to if you but ask me. There is nothing you may not have of me._

_**I DO NOT WANT YOU TO DO ANYTHING SAVE WHAT YOU WILL. YOU ARE MY CHOSEN, AND I KNOW WHO YOU ARE. AS I KNOW SARAH FOR WHO SHE IS. I WISH NOT FOR MY CHOSEN TO BE ANYTHING BUT THEMSELVES. **_

Jareth smiled to himself at the renewed vigor in the mind touch, the doubt gone, the touch full of the curiosity and wonder that were ever the mark of the labyrinth. _**MY KING AND MY QUEEN ARE WELL MATCHED YET DIFFERENT. YOU FEED MY SOUL BOTH, AND EACH OF YOU GIVES ME WHAT THE OTHER ONE CANNOT. I AM CONTENT. **_There was but a moments hesitation before the next words, and Jareth knew this for the influence of another mind's touch. For the first time since the binding he did not mind. _**SARAH NEEDS TO DO WHAT SHE MUST, AND FOLLOW HER OWN PATH IN OUR BINDING. SO MUST YOU. ONLY BELIEVE THIS, CHOSEN: YOU MAY NOT LIKE HER ACTIONS, BUT YOU MAY TRUST THAT SHE IS AS TRUE AS I AM. MY CHOSEN AND I ARE ONE.**_

Jareth leaned back in his seat and idly added another crystal to his hand. So then, work with Sarah. There was a lot to be achieved with the cooperation of another like him. This might actually be interesting, as unpleasant as interesting could be at times. He smiled into the crystals with predatory calculation. She was a woman still, and would not victory be even sweeter but for her powers? She would be his, he vowed, the queen to his king, as his mother was his father's helpmeet. In hugely improved spirits he began to banter with his goblins, and as the afternoon progressed, he sang to them. At length he noticed the queen's own among the goblin crowd, the goatish little Eek. As he called the goblin over, he knew the path he would be taking.

* * *

/

* * *

In the months that followed the war council took to meeting in one of the reception rooms, the need for maps of the land, tables for the piles of reports they were pouring over, and comfortable chairs to make the long hours of meetings more bearable made the goblin throne room a less than stellar choice, even if it looked more impressive. And as Ningyo remarked somewhat sourly, it was a lot easier to keep the crowd of goblins to a manageable number. It was a gray day in the goblin city, a slow, tepid rain had begun in the early hours of the day and gave no indication of planning to finish anytime soon. Yet still the weather was rather more cheerful than the mood in the council. They met several times a week now, and the duties the councilors had taken upon themselves left them increasingly exhausted. While the attacks on the goblin kingdom had ceased for a long time after the goblin queen's arrival, the violence had finally picked up again, ever more insidious. None but a few delayed stragglers arrived from Ardar Iforas any longer, but the prior considerable influx of members of many refugees of all kindreds to the goblin kingdom had proven more of a blessing than a burden, with so many new territories in the goblin kingdom begging to be cultivated and explored. The labyrinth was forever desiring more people to bind to, and its quiet physical expansion, which had been brought to pass by the queen's arrival, had still not ceased, but continued in spurts and leaps.

The few dark rumors that escaped from Ardar Iforas hinted that the situation there had gone from bad to worse for its citizens, but as the demesne was effectively closed to the outside world, little could be confirmed. The last refugee to find her way to the goblin kingdom had been a terrified dwarf woman who had been kept in Tahat as a personal cook to a fae lord. Her master's ability to protect her had ended quickly when Lleu had taken a liking to the lord's art collection. Bergljot looked like the quiet and harmless cook she was, rather than a hardy warrior woman who could brave all the deprivations she had gone through, yet against all odds she had managed to escape Ardar Iforas and the reach of white Babdh with her blood-beaked crows who was still haunting the borderlands. Babdh was no longer confined to the winter border but flaunted her savage presence in all neighboring borderlands, a scourge of all travelers to the goblin kingdom yet still leaving the oathbound unmolested, but her far-traveling ways might have well been the salvation of Bergljot. The councilors had given silent thanks to the Queen's Palisades at the winter border to Ardar Iforas, an impregnable barrier against any foul intentions Lleu might have had. Bergliot had been questioned before the council in depth and her stories made the councilors' blood run cold. Her terrifying tales of oppression and death in Tahat plainly told that the fae in Ardar Iforas had been broken to the heel by threats and violence, and no uprising could be expected in the demesne. It seems that even the fae themselves were not save any longer. If Lleu desired anything in the possession of a courtier and could not find an easy way to get it, a mysterious, violent illness would kill the unlucky owners within hours of being afflicted with a blinding headache, and none had ever recovered. In tears Bergljot told of a rare dwarf poison Lleu had torn from the mind of her father, a dwarf healer, under extreme torture; a poison that invariably killed unless the freshly prepared antidote was given within hours of the first symptoms. Since the preparation of the antidote required unusual ingredients and seventeen full days to prepare, this was of a rather theoretical interest to Lleu's victims. When at length the young woman had disclosed all she had known of the events in Tahat, the goblin king offered her the free choice of her life in peace, a house and a new life in the dwarf towns in the Simien mountains or a place under his protection, free to be what she wanted in the castle beyond the goblin city. The dwarf woman chose a life in the palace, under Jareth's protection.

But despite the protection of the Queen's Palisades, even the precarious safety for the bloodsworn against attack seemed to be waning. Strange beasts that had no place in the order of things had taken to hunt the labyrinth, mauling and killing its citizens, and since the beasts were just mindless animals and possessed of neither reason nor magic, the labyrinth could not detect and dispose of them before they had killed, and even if they left death in their wake it was exceedingly difficult to track them if they left the kill spot. It was like expecting a woolly mammoth to be able to keep track of the fleas that lived in its thick coat, for even magic as powerful as the labyrinth possessed was limited in its ability to deal with certain problems. Yet these predatory animals had no place in the labyrinth, they were not native to the land and had not hunted it before, and none knew how they came to be here.

But even worse fates began to touch on the oathbound. No blood was ever spilled on the ground, no mind screams alerted the labyrinth of an attack on its sworn, yet the lifeless bodies of dwarf and pixie, huldra and odein were found in all parts of the goblin kingdom, their faces contorted in a rictus of horror, without any mark on their bodies to explain how they met their end, their deaths an inexplicable riddle.

To top off their mounting problems, the weather in the last few seasons had been most unseasonable, too dry when rain was needed for the seeds to sprout, too hot when the tender seedlings began to grow, too cool and wet when the wheat and corn was ripening, and what little had grown in the fields was flattened by cruel cold hailstorms when it was time for the harvest. Since he had come into power, Jareth had been building and keeping granaries all over his demesne to provide for just such eventualities, and his foresight had saved his subjects from famine before. Yet three years of bad harvests had taken their toll on the granaries, and especially in the cities food was running low, and famine threatened. When the weather had proven detrimental for farming again this year, for the fourth year running, it had finally dawned on the council that malicious magic was at work, not just a really bad streak of luck. They could be forgiven for their oversight since controlling the weather required such strong magic that the thought had simply never crossed anybody's mind. Once the labyrinth realized what was going on, it had concentrated its strength to help along this years' plantings, using much of its power to influencing the weather over the central plains to a mild spring most favorable for the growth of grain, and as the water from the Haliakmon and the Tanais irrigated the rich black soil of the fields, the ground was neigh humming with magic, the seedlings growing fast and furious, helped along by the magic of the labyrinth. This years' harvest would be plentiful and early, allowing for another planting that would be made successful as well, but the months until the first harvest threatened to be hungry ones for many citizens of the goblin kingdom. Yet the effort to control the weather and the sheer amount of magic the labyrinth expended to protect this years' harvest also reduced the amount of power available for other projects the council had conceived of that relied on the labyrinth's magic.

* * *

Jareth leaned into the corner of his chair, his left foot drumming an aggravated rhythm on the floor, the other leg over the armrest. His eyes were narrowed and black with barely suppressed fury as he listened to Porr's dense explanation.

"As I am sure you all know, the ambassadors of the other demesnes of the underground have met with me in the last weeks, and I have received countless heartfelt assurances of friendship and assistance. They are horrified of the senseless attacks on our citizens in their demesnes, doing all that is possible to bring those responsible to justice if they can find them. They obviously utterly reject the evil that is visiting the goblin kingdom, slaughtering our people. They talked and talked and talked," Porr said with tired disgust in his voice. "We may rest assured that they wish us all the best."

He looked at his king with resignation in his eyes. "They will not do anything to help us, Jareth. As far as they are concerned, better us than them. They will simply look on, whatever happens, praying all the while that the attacks do not spread to their demesnes. We cannot hope for help from anyone outside. And that would be the good news." Porr was growling now. "As far as I can tell, the growth of the goblin kingdom has wakened the covetousness in a good many fae courts. They feel we are getting to big for our britches, and why should they not get a bit of all this new wealth? If there ever were a successful attack on us, I feel sure that several of our concerned neighbors would not mind picking over the corpse, after giving it a good kicking beforehand, of course."

The lady Sindri raised her quiet voice from the seat next to the chancellor when Porr fell silent. "However, Arrawn of Annwyn has given more than but a token of help. He has dispatched eleven fian from Annwyn to the goblin kingdom, and he has send word that more will be at our disposal should we need them. Over ten men and women in each fian, so more than one hundred Fianna, well-trained in arms and magic, are waiting in the guards' barracks to swear their service to you. They have sworn their lives and their honor to Annwyn, but they are prepared to swear their service and their loyalty to the goblin king for the duration. Those mage-warriors will be of much help in our fight against the darkness that threatens us.

The Ard Ri and queen Eriu have been similarly generous. Danu has sent many dozens of fae to our aid." Her voice shook with mirth. "And those are well-chosen fae indeed, Jareth. Your parents must have scoured Falias, Gorias, and Murias from top to bottom to find such as them. We all know that the high king and his queen do not truly approve of the way of life in the goblin kingdom as they cannot completely shake the fae disdain for those not fae, yet they seem to have managed to find those in their demesne who would not fully share their prejudices." She was laughing openly now.  
"I do not know whether this was not rather a purge of potential discontents, but they have sent us truly superbly trained and equipped fae, powerful and strong in their magic, all of them sworn to help the goblin king with all their abilities. I believe whatever happens in the future, only very few of them if any will want to return after they have lived here for a while. Yet whatever the secondary intention of your parents' help, Jareth, they have given us strong fighters and courtiers well versed in diplomacy and politics, all of whom are sworn to absolute loyalty. The Ard Ri's and queen Eriu's endorsement and aid will discourage many other courts to commit any rash acts against the goblin kingdom."

Sindri's news had lightened the mood in the room. Encouraged, Toby spoke up. "Tiernan and I have been traveling the width and breadth of the goblin kingdom these last years. He is an amazing weapons teacher, best fighter I ever sparred with. He is driving himself ragged, he works like a man possessed. He throws himself into his work with all he has, and more, his hair is turning white already. It's all I can do to keep up. He's shown me so much, I can't even begin to tell you," he gushed excitedly. He blushed when he realized how much of his hero worship he shared.  
"And imagine my surprise when I realized that I have some real skills in organizing people. It seems when I talk to people, someone will always tell me some bit of information that comes in most handy to solve another problem further down the road. It's not so much anything that I do, actually, but somehow I am really good at getting the people who know what needs to be done to actually share the information and we end up with a solution that truly works for the people we are trying to help."  
He smiled shyly. "We have spend time in all the bigger settlements of all kindreds along the goblin kingdom's borders. Between Tiernan and me, we have managed to organize militias throughout the demesne, although that is a rather big word for some of these mobs. Many of the villagers have no use for any formal weapons training, they are experienced hunters and trappers and they know the land. They have no intention to face an enemy if they are able to kill him from the behind. However, Tiernan knows some exceptionally nasty tricks that impressed even the most hard-bitten of them. So we were happily able to teach even those who already able to fight pretty good some more ways to wreak havoc. The peoples of the border country are no soldiers, but I believe that we have managed to at least begin to organize them to a force to be reckoned with if we get attacked."  
Toby grinned at Jareth. "Especially since their king can mind-touch them through their blood-ties to the labyrinth. This is an advantage none of our foes have, only the goblin king can communicate instantly over distance with his subjects. Whomever we may face in battle, we have this working in our favor. Now, I know that the communication is far from perfect, but we still can share more information than they can."

Jareth gave him a grin in return. "I understand that Tiernan's tireless work in training my subjects has already paid off handsomely. I hear the recurring fights in the more ill-reputed taverns of the goblin city now tend to break up as soon as the city guards enter the offending establishment. It seems my guards' newfound ability to break up altercations with minimum fuss and maximum pain on the receiving side has hugely increased their peace-keeping abilities among the more unruly of my subjects. And even my army finally deserves its name - Sed has been trying to get me to spend the time to properly train my soldiers for longer than I can remember, but I just never had the patience. Have you ever considered how much mind-numbing labor is involved in the training of an army consisting of too many willing, stupid and utterly useless goblins, each cursed with two left hands and ten thumbs, into anything resembling a fighting force? Tiernan's efforts in getting my soldiers to live up to their wages have finally shut Sed up. And when even Sed approves of my worthless army, it cannot be worthless any more. I do not know how Tiernan found the strength of spirit to kick my goblin troops into shape, especially since his opinions of goblins could hardly be lower, as he has always been at pains to make clear. But not only has my brother trained my goblins into a true army, after he went for a bout with Sed he even admitted to me that my goblin was better than he was. I believe he is getting sentimental in his old age. The alternative is that we are corrupting him. I hold out hope that Tiernan is ready to settle down. The goblin kingdom seems made for such as him."  
Jareth smiled at Toby with approval. "And I want to commend you for your work, Tobias," he said warmly. "Your work in organizing our people has been most helpful. And do no deceive yourself, it is you who brings together all the different people and makes them work together effectively. You may not know yet how you are doing it, but you will find out over time, and get even better at it. Until you coordinated the spread-out peoples of the borders I had no real knowledge of how many of my people are worth a damn in a fight, or what their capabilities are. There has never been a need for it - the labyrinth and I had never encountered a foe before we could not deal with on our own." He smiled wryly. "Now it seems we will need all help we can get to keep us safe. Until we know our enemy, how can we fight him? I will need you, Tobias, to extend your efforts. We need some way to get the various militias' to work together in some at least half-way efficient way should the need ever arise. Now, you have proven most apt in finding ways to get people to work together well, so I will leave it up to you to find a way to achieve this."  
And with this the council began its work of discussing in depth the various avenues of inquiry and work that needed to be done.

* * *

/

* * *

Well over an hour later the council was arguing about the possibilities of drawing out the enemy to put a name and a face to the darkness they were fighting, but this topic raised the tempers, as always. As the argument degenerated into a shouting match, as had happened before, the goblin queen quietly entered the room, with a smile and a gentle touch for the goblin guards as she passed them, leaving them grinning after her in maudlin ecstasy. Unnoticed by the council she sat down on a spot on the floor against the wall, with a view of the windows opening to the inexhaustible rain, rendering them an appropriate frame for the shouting councilors. Sarah leaned wearily against the tapestries that covered the walls, unmindful of her rumpled skirts, simply glad to be off her feet for a while. Long gone were the days that she wore the royal robes to the meetings, and much to the distress of the councilors she donned the everyday clothes of a working woman, a simple linen shift under cotton skirts and bodice, the only luxury the fitted boots of dragon leather and Eek's necklace with the labyrinth's medallion. Like a cat Eek slipped onto her lap in one practiced move and leaned into her unconscious pet. Fully become Eek was every inch the queen's goblin, her first advisor and her most trusted friend. Fainthearted he was still, and always would be, yet he could be trusted to follow any question his queen laid on him to its conclusion, however hard and dangerous the finding might be, and his advice was as true as his love. He was the queen's own, and he would lay down his life for his Sarra without hesitation or regret. Yet here in goblin throne room, in the heart of the castle beyond the goblin city, surrounded by an incensed group of oathbound councilors screaming at each other and at their goblin king, he could let go of his vigilance for his queen, for she was safe, and with this thought Eek leaned into Sarah's gentle pets and fell asleep in her lap.

Sarah smiled as she felt the small body relax and let the raised voices of the council wash over her. She gave a start as Etain and Cuchulain pushed their long muzzles against her face and neck, half climbing over each other in their eagerness to get as close to her as they could, as she had not noticed the animals leave their masters' sides. She felt her body unbend as the warm bodies of dog and direwolf lay down pressed closely against her and wondered idly how long it would take before anyone else noticed her, but she was in no hurry.

* * *

Her days of peaceful learning and exploring were a thing of the past, her quiet days as the dwarf trader and healer Eir shattered with the attacks on the goblin kingdom. She was ever more grateful to be able to function on very little sleep, for she had little time left for such niceties. She still traveled the goblin kingdom as Eir with her hundun companion Ankimo for support and protection, yet no more was she helping farmers stomped upon by their cows or children with broken bones from falling off a tree. Instead she grimly treated badly savaged villagers set upon by vicious animals, with deep wounds infected with rot, and children sick with illnesses that their small bodies, weakened by malnutrition or outright hunger, could not fight. Sarah's healing magic, drawn directly from her bond with the labyrinth, had become stronger with every year and she had become apt at consciously shaping the power to her need, but her control was visceral and instinctive as she lacked the formal training any bearer of magic received in the underground. And yet, even had she had full conscious control of all her magic, she still would not have been able to save many of those who turned to her for help. So despite all her desperate efforts she had amputated too many limbs from people who needed to be whole to survive their lives, she had held too many children as they died from diseases they should have been able to fight off on their own, and her spirit was weary.

Yet she soldiered on, for such was the responsibility of the goblin queen, in plenty or in need, in peace or in war, in living or in dying, until she might depart the throne, death take her, or the world end. And so she traveled the back country with her cart and gave food to the needy, most often for a promise to help their neighbors when they could, since the most desperate had nothing to pay her yet they were not beggars, and proud, and she healed the sick, and comforted those she could not heal. And with gritted teeth she observed and remembered all she encountered, to make use of in the nights when the labyrinth and its queen were laboring to the best of their abilities to make the goblin kingdom safer for their subjects, and Sarah's imagination would dream guardians into existence, protections shaped into being with the power of the labyrinth.

And sometimes on the road, when her strength ran low and her spirit was sapped, the labyrinth would spirit them away from the road and deliver them to the mists, to create a space of quiet and isolation for them, rendering them apart from the rest of the goblin kingdom. Back home in the mists Nehorai who sang of the night dropped his hundun disguise and changed back to his shedim form, and Sarah regained her human shape. They joined their voices in the consolation of dreamsong with the shedim brethren, creating peace and beauty in an outpouring of need. The song of joy bereft of life in his heart as were his mate and his son, Nehorai could not join in with the goblin queen's passionate rendition of the song as she infused it with a power far beyond that of the other shedim who shared in the singing with her, yet he always felt its' peace envelope him, beckoning to him stronger every time. The songs of power gave Sarah and Nehorai the strength to face another day, their spirit renewed by the promise of hope, and the labyrinth would return them to the road, dwarf woman and hundun. Sarah had become ever closer to the shedim who had joined her to revenge his dead family, and had instead found himself entrusted with the goblin queen's spirit and trust. He shared the travails and worries of a war with a human woman who had become his unlikely family, his friend and confidante, when he had been sure that loneliness was his only fate after the death of his beloved. And so they traveled on, sharing their food, their healing and their love with those they met on the road in the goblin kingdom, and made their way into the fairy-tales of the underground, as in the great years to come mothers would tell their children about the dwarf lady and her Hundun companion who would give them their blessings and a gift if they were a good child.

* * *

Sarah was leaning half asleep against the wall and so missed the goblin king's sharp eyes alighting on her relaxed form, crowded by goblins, dog and direwolf. Sarah did not know that the goblin king had long been observing her closely when she came to the meetings every few weeks. She had become thin and tired in these last months, Jareth thought with a start. He wondered how he could have missed the extent of it, but then, it was hard to get a good look at the queen at the best of times, for she never stilled enough for quiet observation. Sarah was like fire, in constant motion, her dark, low voice doing but half of her talking as her hands accompanied her speech with graceful counterpoint, restless like flames, never still. Now, as she leaned against the wall exhausted, her fire died down to barely flickering embers, he noticed how colorless and blotchy her skin was, not the pearly pale perfection of a fae lady but the unhealthy grayish tint denoting a lack of sleep, the shadows under her eyes like purple bruises, making her thick dark eyebrows stand out in stark relief. Her short curls hung limp and dejected around her head, flat and matted like a goblin's, the rich dark-chocolate brown hair with chestnut-lights dulled to a muddy brown. Her face was much too thin, the eyes huge in the narrow, peaked face, and even in repose a worried line showed between her brows, her thin lips pale in her face. With dismay he thought that her body looked much like a fae woman's now, willowy and narrow, with nary a curve to break the smooth and exquisite fall of her plain clothes. What had happened to the soft curves that had graced her body? Gone the inviting swell of her hips, setting off her narrow waist most becomingly, and he mournfully doubted that she was as pleasing to the eye in her low-cut leather cuirass as she had been. Jareth set his jaw and decided there and then that Sarah needed to be taken care of better than she was obviously willing to do herself. At least there would be no problem to draw the labyrinth or the goblins into helping him in this endeavor.

Sarah had rightly observed the perfection of fae beauty and the chasm between their glamour and a human's comparatively meager charms, and she had concluded that by comparison humans were lacking. The beauty of fae was absolute and unchangeable, for thus they were created. Their hair grew in silky, rich manes of absolute color, no mousy browns or dishwater blond for them. Black hair was as black as soot, so dark it reflected light in blue flashes; if they were blond, their hair was as the midday sun on a lake, or the color of rich honey; while redheads shone with the light of bright copper or the hue of flames. Their eyes were the colors of gemstones, their skin porcelain perfection, smooth, even, and immaculate, and their bodies absolute symmetry and elegance. No human could look at fae and not be drawn to them, as their beauty was the primal fantasy of man.

What Sarah could not fathom, being human herself, was the allure that humans held for fae. And yet the fae were powerfully drawn to human imperfection, for it was endlessly diverting and new, ever unexpected and surprising. Even more than their appearance the very nature of humans was impermanence and change, their emotions volatile and ever-developing, their minds unknowable and chaotic. To an immortal kindred slow to change and resistant to transformation, these were irresistibly seductive traits, promising endless diversion, a pleasing antidote to boredom. Thus humans were desired as lovers and companions by the fae, yet for all the attraction the fae did not trust humans as the very traits that attracted the immortal kindred rendered those they desired untrustworthy and unreliable in their perception. Of all fae Jareth was one of the few who had given his life to wild magic, chosen of the labyrinth as he was, and joyfully accepted change, impermanence and even chaos in his own life. It had made him an outsider among his own kindred, a position he laughingly embraced, but still his desires and proclivities had been shaped by his background and upbringing.

So he watched Sarah with fascination, and while he never let it on, he admired the strength and the stubbornness with which she threw herself into the protection of her subjects, without concern for herself. She made an admirable goblin queen, even though she was nothing that he could have imagined.

* * *

/

* * *

In a moment of quiet during the argument Jareth leaned over to Ikiaq and murmured into her ear. She smiled at him and got up, dragging Toby with her as they left the reception room. They returned a few minutes later accompanied by goblins carrying tablets laden with food and drink. When Toby saw Sarah leaning against the wall, he gave shout of surprise and ran to her, squatting before her as he told her to get a seat at the table, he and Ikiaq had brought sustenance to get them through the meeting. Sarah smiled and held her hand out to Toby, who got to his feet with the agility of youth and pulled her up in a smooth movement, walking her to the head of the table with the eagerness of a puppy. Jareth gave her a deep mocking bow and a wide grin and motioned to an empty chair next to him.

Sarah looked at him with a wry smile. "I cannot help thinking that sitting next to you might just kill my appetite, goblin king. Perhaps I should move to another seat."

With blatant and undisguised insincerity Jareth gave her a slow smile that held more indecent promise than she would have considered possible, his voice caressing and intimate. "Ah, my dearest Sarah, of course you should loose your appetite when seated next to me. Who can think of food when one's ... other desires have wakened? But just think, Sarah, isn't it easier to concentrate on the food if looking up does not bring the object of your deepest desires into your field of vision? You doubtlessly have the strength of character to stop yourself from turning your head, but how could you possibly stop yourself from devouring me with your eyes, when all it takes is looking up?"

Sarah laughed out loud and sat down next to Jareth. "How could a woman resist your charm, goblin king, or your powers of persuasion? You have made the seat next to you the inevitable choice."

Sarah had not been eating regularly for months, too distracted with the worries of her daily life, too guilty with the sight of hungry children going without meals. Not eating had become a habit she was barely conscious of after all this time, and she might have eaten only a few bites had Jareth not raised her ire with his curt behavior. She knew the burdens that weighed on his mind, heavier than hers as she well understood that the ruler of the goblin kingdom had more responsibilities than she did. She could not find it in her to be distrustful of him and furious any more, for she knew that he did the best he could, even if his ideas about what was best might veer wildly from hers. But she had no problems at all to get mad at him when the situation required it. So what if he was tired and cranky? Sarah knew how much Ikiaq worried about her milk-son, always looking out for his well-being as best she could, and one of her ways was trying to feed him. Jareth usually dealt with it gracefully and with humor, but today he was short-tempered and disagreeable, and it seemed he found something to criticize about any of the dishes that Ikiaq put on his plate. Sarah tried to make up for Jareth's ill behavior by eating of all the dishes and effusively thanking Ikiaq, but she felt that she probably did not make up for the disappointment the castellaine had to feel. At length she felt she could not eat another bite, and realized that she had been very hungry indeed. As she turned to Ikiaq, she caught a smile on Jareth's face that gave her pause. She looked at him suspiciously. "You were in an unusually critical mood today, goblin king," she inquired sweetly. "Is there any special reason to why this would be?"

Jareth schooled his face into a study of unconcerned surprise. "I beg your forgiveness if I was not the companion you had hoped for. But do not worry yourself, my dear Sarah, it must have been something I ate earlier today. "

"Of course it was. And now, goblin king, how about offering me the other cheek?"

Jareth just laughed and turned the conversation to some juicy gossip making the rounds at court, and Sarah let herself be distracted. It would not do to think that he might be looking out for her.

After they all had eaten their fill, the goblins refilled the mugs with steaming larak and took away the plates. An easy camaraderie had long sprung up between the queen and the councilors, and they were easily talking about some topic or other when Sarah leaned back into the corner of her chair, her feet tugged under her skirts. "I would be grateful if someone could explain to me why our neighbors seem to be so willing to set all ideas of self-preservation at nought ? They may be greedy, but I did not think that they were stupid. The last time a goblin king was murdered, the labyrinth closed itself down and left the fae courts childless. Aren't they worried about the consequences of an all-out-attack on the goblin kingdom?"

Ningyo smiled warmly at the goblin queen. "As you may know, lady Sarah, I am of the Maighdean-mhara, the children of Llyr. I had come to the goblin king's court bearing a warning from the Sao Llyr, yet was waylaid before I could make my way back." He could not continue for a few moments as he laughingly fought off a veritable tornado of papers that 'Lo lani lobbed at him in a storm of protest. "Yet swearing myself to the labyrinth has not weakened the bonds of kinship or friendship that I have with the people of the sea. I am in regular correspondence not only with my family but also with the lady Morveren, whom I have known since she was a child. I have been honored to have Sao Llyr's trust, and he has not withdrawn it." His face grew serious. "There had long been unsubstantiated rumors, loose talk on the wind, of a contender to the goblin throne, but it might just have been the imagination of a suspicious mind. Morveren has but recently sent me a long gossipy letter about the events of the last months at court, funny, smart, and completely harmless even if you read it with the most suspicious mind. Unless you know the cipher it is not possible to read the true content. Only the Sao Llyr, his daughter Morveren and the head of his armies know the cipher. Nykr leads the armies of the sea now, but it was my honor to serve the Sao Llyr as his commander before. It is a rumor no more, my queen." The room might have been empty for all the sound it held. "A man without face or name has laid claim to the goblin throne. He promises what the fae want to hear in return for their acquiescence. The knowledge of this touched the minds of the fae rulers without their recollection, as one morning they woke up knowing. Heart magic has touched the underground again, but the fae willfully shut their eyes to it in their greed. The contender cannot know about the labyrinth itself, else he would not act as he does. I believe he has an inkling of the power of the goblin kingdom, but he does not realize what it is, nor that he has made an eternal enemy of the labyrinth."

The deathly quiet that followed these words was broken by a malicious laugh from Sarah, who had sat up regally in her chair. Her words made no sense. "Do you realize how utterly repellent some of the runners are, councilors? What it takes to test the mettle of those who have wished away a child, and to suffer the nearness of those who do not care to make up for their misdeed, who feel no guilt, no responsibility? Having to breath the same air as they do is a violation. I always need a bath after one of those. The children we take are precious, and isn't the price we pay for the future of the underground much too high for the children to be given away as if they are worthless?" and Sarah smiled at Jareth without reservation, her eyes black with emotion, undiluted anger writ large on her face.

Yet Jareth understood immediately, agreeing to her words joyously and without hesitation. "I beg to differ, Sarah, as even the runners who truly deserve to get their wished-away back are usually rather tiresome to deal with, wouldn't you agree?" Jareth took the goblin queen's hand. "But apart from this little misconception of yours, I quite agree. Re-appropriating children is a demanding business, and why should it be wasted on those who will not appreciate the trouble we go to?" His smile was as malicious as Sarah's. "I foresee a sudden population explosion in the goblin kingdom, Danu, Annwyn and among the Maighdean-mhara. I believe having two or three children at a time might change the mind of some of our subjects who keep begging us to be blessed. I have high hopes this experience will seriously reduce the demand on our time in the future, don't you think, Sarah?" Jareth gave Sarah an exultant smile and raised her hand to his face, turning it and kissing her palm and the inside of her wrist. Sarah felt the touch of his lips like fire on her skin and it took her breath away, yet she looked at him in delighted complicity and winked at him as looked up at her with a beckoning glint in his eyes.

The councilors stared at their king and their queen in confusion and awe. Their fae king and their human queen looked eerily similar this instant; wild, cruel, and with more than a touch of goblin in their demeanor, unrestrained by rules and conventions, uncaring of anything but their desires.

Yet the goblin kingdom bred stout souls, so within a short time they objected with raised voices. However, neither Jareth nor Sarah would change their minds about no longer sending children to those demesnes who did not support the goblin kingdom. In a most unusual display of agreement they insisted that the present state of affairs could hardly be worse - the other demesnes not only were refusing to offer any kind of assistance to the labyrinth, but many of them could be assumed to be actually quietly abetting the man without face. Only the lady Sindri supported her lieges' stance, and when she ceased to argue the case, Jareth and Sarah looked at each other united in the assumption that the lady was doubtlessly planning on the best way of profiting from their decision. The only objection they gave into was Ningyo's. The former lord of the sea pointed out that any demesne that was granted children would de facto have publicly declared its loyalties. He argued that it would be preferable to have an ally among one's enemies, disguised as one of them, as a source of information that might prove vital. Ningyo was a proud man, yet he humbly asked to remember the people of the sea once they had defeated their enemies. Without a second thought Sarah rose from her chair and walked quickly to the councilor who hailed from the sea himself. She kneeled in front of the shocked man and took his hands, smiling up into his eyes, and swore to him that the population explosion in the sea was delayed only, not cancelled.

* * *

/

* * *

Soon they were discussing the potential fallout of the decision not to send children to the uncooperative demesnes, and the growing restlessness at the borders came up. As always the discussion turned to the protections and guardians that had been installed since the queen's last attendance of the council.

Sarah was quite miffed when Jareth began to mock the floaters. Calling them sky sheep was downright insulting.

"I will admit, my dear Sarah, that they are quite pretty to look at, like banners of brightly colored silks floating in the sky above the clouds, and even though their bleating is not utterly unmelodious, it is not exactly the most riveting music to listen to. In small doses, that is. Too much of their songs, and I would seriously consider drowning myself. You have created the very first instance of depressed sheep. And in truth, it strikes me as a pointless exercise to create a fluffy bit of beauty and call it protection."

Sarah gritted her teeth, why the night would he not stop calling her "my dear Sarah" in these dulcet tones? It should sound ridiculous and yet, the way he caressed her name with his lovely voice made her quite weak in the knees, not that she would ever have admitted to it. Thus, properly incensed she ripped into him. "Pray tell, goblin king, have you ever heard of reconnaissance? What would you do if you ever found yourself in a battle in bad terrain and you needed to know the enemies' positions?"

Jareth looked at her with a studied expression of patience on his face. "As I am sure you know, Sarah, we fae can shape-shift. There is not a battle when some of the birds in the sky are not our spies."

Sarah grinned at him in a way Jareth did not like at all. "What kind of idiot would not prepare for this in a battle, goblin king? I mean, if I were to run interference I'd make dead sure that nothing at all flies around in the sky - I'd assume any sparrow to be an enemies' spy. I'd bloody well stop anything fluttering around, and the labyrinth and I have come up with a splendid way of doing just that."

"So it was YOU," Jareth could not stop himself from shouting, out of his chair in a heartbeat and looming close to Sarah's unconcerned face. "I was frozen in midflight for hours, just hanging there, and ..." he stopped himself mid-sentence at the guffaw from the councilors. He stared at them furiously, but then the humor of the situation got to him. "Well, Sarah, you just may have a point here," he admitted somewhat grudgingly as he sat down again. "But how could those sky sheep be of any help?"

"The floaters aren't sheep," she growled at him. "They are a sentient kindred. They are blood sworn to the labyrinth, so you know they will be helping us should we ever need them. At least try to be nice, especially as they might save your ass at some time in the future. I cannot really tell much, for not everything the labyrinth and I find in my dreams I can explain, and I don't know where the floaters came from. But they are always in the sky now, over all the demesnes in the underground, and nobody the wiser. They always congregate high up over crowds - fairs, harvests, celebrations, and people are getting used to them. Who will think twice if they are in the sky over a battle? But even so, their bright colors are a choice, and they can change them as they please, to anything, or nothing at all. They are so high up that any magic weaker than the labyrinth's cannot touch them, and the labyrinth and its chosen can touch their minds as they hover over the earth. Tell me, goblin king, is this not a protection? Deny an enemy knowledge of our positions while we know theirs?" Pressed, Jareth admitted was that perhaps the floaters were not a complete waste, but Sarah took her victories where she found them.

* * *

Not all guardians were as well received. Sarah had been rather proud of what she come up in the Naryn delta, in the border province of Quaraghandy. The Naryn was the border of the goblin kingdom to Makgadikigadi, and while the ruling Archon had never been an enemy of the goblin kingdom, as Makgadikigadi relied on heavily on trade with its bigger neighbor, the fae court of the Archon was rather proud of the fact that they were not of the goblin kingdom but pure fae. As far as the goblin queen was concerned, securing the borders against such as those was a good idea, and since the river was the border, securing the river marshes was the most logical solution. But just the mention of Quaraghandy got Toby riled. "That place is horrible. I just want to burn all that grows on the banks and sow the marshes with salt." He looked at Sarah with a mulish face. "I am sure that the Archon hates us and already cooperates with the man without name. He has already crossed the Naryn and planted horrors in its marshes," he declared with conviction. "When Tiernan and I went to Quaraghandy I went fishing, and suddenly I heard Cuchulain bark like mad, and scream in distress. When I ran to see to him, I found him fighting with a monstrous plant I have never seen the likes of. It looked like a monstrous bulb the size of a human body, with a red-lipped mouth the width of its whole head full of vicious teeth, and it was trying to eat him. The stem of that thing was small by comparison, with many tendrils growing of it, but it used its tendrils like ropes and its leaves like hands trying to hold Cuchulain down." Toby saw with some satisfaction that Sarah looked properly horrified.

Much longer experience, however, informed Jareth that the goblin queen's look was not horror but rather shock and guilt. He leaned back in his chair in anticipation. This should be good.

"And it was not only the big head trying to get Cuchulain, but here were many small mouthy buds nipping him, not that he seemed to care much," and with pride shining in his face Toby petted the direwolf on his side who yawned disinterestedly. "You should have seen him, lady Sarah, he had torn of many of the small buds off and had closed his jaws hard on the lower ... lip of that huge thing when I came close, and that thing was screaming. It was shaking its head and was flinging Cuchulain about, but direwolves do not let go easily. I took out my dagger, and this plant creature hissed at me and shouted. It had a man's low voice, and it asked me to call back my dog, how could it have known the dog belonged to me, it would never have attacked him. I was quite taken aback, and Cuchulain let go of him and came to my side. He had a few scratches, but that plant creature was in much worse shape. But I don't think I would have fared as well had that creature attacked me." The direwolf sidled up to Sarah to see whether he could wheedle a couple of treats out of her as he usually did, and he rather hit the jackpot this time. Guilt-stricken, the goblin queen petted him vigorously and kept feeding him treats as she addressed Toby with a smaller voice than Jareth had ever heard her use before. He just had to come up with a way of making her talk to him like that.

"Am, you see, Toby, I... say, did you kill the Audrey?" She sounded rather frantic suddenly.

As Toby's eyes nearly bugged out, Jareth had to use a long life's experience to keep his face neutral and refrain from laughing out loud. What had Sarah come up with now?

"No, Cuchulain was hurt, and I needed to look after his wounds, so we left as fast as we could. But back in the village, after I had tended his wounds, I went to the nearest sanctuary and shed my blood. The labyrinth took the knowledge of what I had seen out of my mind and comforted me. I thought those abominations were long destroyed. Who is Audrey, lady Sarah?" His voice had gotten ominous.

"Ah, yes, ... the plants. Their name is Audrey. The one who attacked Cuchulain is one of the guardians I put into the marshes." The goblin queen shouted down the ensuing cacophony with a bellow. "Night sake, do you take me to be an idiot? The plants are fully sworn to the labyrinth, and while I'll admit they aren't exactly the nicest kindred, they certainly cannot be even counted among the ten worst things that live in the goblin kingdom, so get off your high horses. They are oathbound, and they are additionally magically bound to the labyrinth - they cannot break their oaths even if they want to. I figured those things might need an extra layer of security as they are rather greedy and constantly hungry. Not to mention amoral. They cannot attack or hurt any of the oathbound, on punishment of immediate destruction. And as to the why, you know as well as I do that Quaraghandy is not densely populated, and the Naryn is bloody long, an open invitation to any uninvited visitors." She grinned nastily. "I have seen one of the Audrey's make short work of an adult wild boar, and I sleep much better knowing that Quaraghandy is save. Any crossing without invitation will face an opponent that is as deadly as it is unobtrusive - or probably not face, as the Audrey's prefer to take a bite out of their dinners from behind ." She looked at the councilors with apology in her face. "I didn't think to include lifestock and companions into the list of things to be left uneaten, I mean, they need to eat something and I only thought of wild animals. I am sorry, I will make sure to fix the unfortunate oversight. I am so sorry, Toby, it just never crossed my mind that they might go for Cuchulain. Although I think an Audrey is no match for a direwolf." She hesitantly put her hand on Toby's sleeve. "Forgive me, Toby, I never meant for anything like this to happen." She looked at him hopefully. "You know, they are nasty, but they are really quite funny. And you should hear them sing."

That was the final straw for Jareth who broke down in helpless laughter on his chair. Life had certainly become far more entertaining since the goblin queen had begun to bring her dreams to life. He hoped that once this war was over he would have the leisure to experience the less deadly variety, but really, it was all good.

This final piece of unpleasantness however had convinced Sarah that now might be a good time to call it a day and hope that everyone's ruffled feelings would have calmed down the next time she could make it to the council, and she took her leave very soon afterwards, not as graceful as she might have wished, but she just wanted to get away from the highly amused face of the goblin king.

* * *

/

* * *

Later in the afternoon Jareth walked back to his quarters from lunch with Ikiaq and Nerromiktok in his milk-sister's rooms when his curiosity was roused by a loud and not very good chorus of voices in the distance. He followed the raucous laughter towards the kitchen and walked in just as everyone there went into the final rousing repeat of the chorus of some tavern song. It was a masterpiece of astounding lewdness that would have made a sailor blush, and it had a most catchy tune. Jareth just knew that he would hear this one again and again - his goblins could never resist a rousing song.

He leaned in the doorway with a grin and looked at the chaos the kitchen always presented to the uninitiated eye. As a child he had trailed behind Ikiaq enough to see it for the intricately choreographed scene it truly was, with the many people hurrying around knowing exactly where they were going and working together in well-practiced movements. The dwarf woman Bergljot had proven herself to be a gifted pastry chef, and she, several other cooks and the head cook were in deep discussion at the stove, no doubt going over the perfect pairing of courses for tonight's dinner.

He scanned the kitchen for the short curly head of the dwarf trader Eir, for if his kitchen servants were singing dirty songs, he knew she could not be far. She had increased the song repertoire of his goblins and servants, as well as his own, even if only a few of those songs were fit for polite company. They were all very entertaining, though. Not that he was going to tell her. She was conceited enough as it was. When he saw Eir kneading dough at one of the low work tables, he walked over and greeted her. "So, you could not resist searching out my company again? Very commendable, but we have to be careful, Eir, or people will talk."

The older woman lifted her face to him quickly, a sudden smile on her face, clearly surprised by his unexpected presence, but that did not slow her response. "As well you know, goblin king, your money is lovely beyond compare, and how could a poor woman resist its lure? And you know us dwarves, we keep our deals. You pay me lovely money, I bake unusual breads and pastries for your tables. And now, why don't you get this oversized body of yours out of the light and park yourself somewhere you're not in the way?" Jareth moved to the corner of the work table she had pointed to and rested his foot on the edge. "I hope you know where you have been walking around in these boots of yours," Eir promptly berated him. Night, sometimes she sounded exactly like Ikiaq. "I am beginning to be glad I don't have to eat the stuff I bake here." He laughed, but did not move his foot, and watched the woman as she efficiently kneaded the dough. They spend a while in companionable silence, until a last Eir stretched her back and looked him over carefully.

"Nice pants you have there," she said with a grin. "Don't leave much to the imagination, but real nice and tight indeed. Must be great to have magic to burn."

Jareth realized that he would doubtlessly regret opening his mouth, but his curiosity got the better of him. "Pray tell, what would magic have to do with my choice of clothes?" he inquired amusedly.

"You know, I'm a pretty good seamstress myself, and I've made all kinds of clothes in my day. But good as I am, there's just no way I could have completely hidden the padding you're obviously using. Hard as I look, there's nary a wrinkle anywhere, no lumps, no seams, so obviously the stuffing has been magically disguised to not destroy the illusion of reality. Real good job, goblin king. Did you do it yourself?"

Jareth was torn between the desire to laugh and to strangle the smirking woman, but as always around Eir, laughter won out. As he had long discovered, a twisted sense of humor and a very thick skin were pre-requisites when dealing with her. She did not seem to understand the concepts of either tact or respect and was the most enjoyable sparring partner in conversations he had for a long time. Eir considered talking a competitive sport, and she played to win.

"You know, I've always wondered, does your voice go up when you sit down?" Eir asked him with an air of innocence that did not fool him for a moment.

"You do realize, Eir, that you exhibit an interest in my private parts that is rather unseemly in a woman your age?" he inquired in his most quelling tone.

As usual, it did not quell the cheery woman in the least. "I wouldn't call it private, boy, not judging by the way you are advertising. And my recurring comments about the family jewels", and she blithely ignored Jareth's cringe, "have nothing to do with obsession - I doubt you have anything I haven't seen before. Many times, as a matter of fact. If you've seen one, you've seen them all."

Jareth laughed out loud. "Despite you calling me boy, my dear Eir, I am far older than you are, and I believe you are seriously overestimating your experience. Perhaps, just perhaps, your observations may be true for dwarves, but lady, there is so much more to experience than you have seen yet," he purred at her with a wicked grin.

"Don't squander your charm on an old woman like me, boy. It's a waste of time. And just imagine the bind you'd find yourself in if I actually took you up on your shameless offers."

"Ah, my dear Eir, do not worry yourself about my shameless offers," Jareth murmured sweetly, leaning close to the dwarf woman kneading the bread dough with an exaggeratedly seductive smile. "I have never, pace my detractors, seduced a woman unless I was sure of an enthusiastic response, so unless you give me a far more energetic invitation you may rest assured of a good nights' sleep." Eir looked up at him with laughter on her face and wiggled her behind. Jareth grinned and continued. "And believe me, charm is not pointless. Really, you should try it sometime. Honing one's charm is never wasted. I would consider it practice, my lady Eir, if only there were a woman who would not look at me with disdain if I addressed her the way I always seem to end up talking to you. But hope springs eternal, and a king must be ready. Who knows, the ability to trade insinuations and insults might just come in useful at some point in my future. I like to be prepared for all eventualities. "

Eir grinned up at Jareth. "I live to serve, goblin king. And if you want me to keep my mouth shut about your - pants, you might want to stop dangling them in front of my eyes." As Jareth closed his eyes with a pained expression, Eir went on undeterred. "Have you ever given any thought to what the world looks like to a poor dwarf woman surrounded by fae? At this point I have a crick in my neck just to make sure I don't constantly stare where you wear your padding. It's not my fault that my eyes are not at a polite level. Night knows, I mostly stare up at you, as well you know. And I am damned sure you like it that I have to look up," she finished huffily.

The goblin king winked at the woman who now busied herself with the loaves she was shaping. "Ah, but admit it, Eir, it is worth looking up at me. Such an uplifting sight, isn't it? And by the way, I do not believe you should harp on about shamelessness, Eir, such hypocrisy does not suit you. After all, are you not the woman corrupting the tender minds of my innocent goblins with the bawdy songs you teach them? I am rather tired of being asked to enlighten them about the words they don't understand. Which would be most of the verbs, nouns and adjectives. Especially since some of these words are rather difficult to explain even for me."

"Innocent goblins? Come on, pull another one, goblin king. I imagine they are no more innocent than their king. And don't try to tell me you don't have first-hand knowledge of pretty much everything my songs go on about, so you should find it easy to explain it to your goblins, no?"

Jareth looked at her with a wicked grin as he sat down rather elegantly on the edge of the table. It seemed he was unable to do anything but graceful. "You do understand, my lady Eir, that in just about any other demesne your king would have you hide if you dared to talk to him this way. Yet you persist in talking to me with shocking familiarity, and there is no lese-majeste you are not willing to commit. You seem to enjoy a life on the edge."

For a moment Eir looked up sharply from the loaves she was putting on the baking tray for the second rising. "Blaming the victim, are you? You do understand, goblin king, that it is you who keeps coming to the kitchen to talk to me, don't you? And considering how much you pay me for the pastries, you're pretty much guaranteed that I am coming here every bloody sennight. So it stands to reason that the problem is you, not me. And that shite about insulting my king - you are not my king. I have no king, as I am sure I have told you many times before. I don't have to give account to nobody, and that suits me just fine. I don't take orders well, never have, and I am too old now to change. And I also never been able to believe that I am worth less than anyone else. Course, neither am I worth more, but I do my best to ignore that part. Swearing fealty to anyone, giving up my own free will, giving in and calling it a compromise - well, it just goes against the grain."

"I take it then that you've never been married, Eir? Unless of course dwarfish courtship asks for a cudgel over the head and a dragging of the hapless mate to a cave?" Jareth inquired with utmost politeness which was rather belied by his taunting tone.

"Hah, just goes to show how little you know," Eir answered with some heat. "Just because you like your women docile, sweet and accommodating does not mean every man does. And anyways, ..." and suddenly she stopped and stared at the bread loaves on the baking tray in deep concentration. "You know what, goblin king? Damn it, I think you are right." Jareth grinned rather self-congratulatory. "In the end, my man did trade me for someone who was a lot more docile and accommodating after all." She looked up at Jareth with a true smile. He smiled back, a bit sheepishly, as it had not been his intention to actually insult her. She seemed to take the memory in her stride, however. "Who'd've thunk I'd agree with you on anything," Eir said with some wonder. "I guess someone like me doesn't do too well in marriage. Had I been born a man, nobody'd consider me selfish or unacceptable, but a woman who won't put her own priorities lower than her man's desires probably is most successful on her own." She grinned. "On the other hand, goblin king, despite all those beautiful fae ladies bending over backwards to please you," and Eir pointedly talked over the goblin king's groan at her words, "I've noticed that these days you seem to be spending more time with me than with any of those desirable ladies."

For a moment Jareth felt his temper flare, but he stomped on it resolutely. He had to admire Eir, it had been a while since anyone had been able to endanger his countenance. Well, anyone but her. And the goblin queen of course. "And I would have believed that an experienced woman like you did not jump to conclusions, my dear Eir. Since after all, how would you know what I do after nightfall?"

Eir had a very ribald laughter, deep, loud and without any touch of restraint, and Jareth found himself laughing with her. The woman picked up the baking tray with the loaves of bread - night, but those dwarf women were strong - and carried the tray to the heat shelf for a second rising until they were ready for baking, calling out to him over her shoulder: "And anyway, d'you think me stupid? I wouldn't talk to you at all if you were the kind of prick that cannot take as well as he gives. Playing with fire is not one of my pastimes, much too easy to get burned. And as to why I keep talking to you - well, you're an arrogant bastard, but I must admit, you're occasionally entertaining. Not quite as stupid as most of the fae hanging about at your court, and you actually seem to care about people. And you even occasionally say something I didn't know before, so talking to you is not a complete waste of time."

* * *

Sarah thought that her words were surprisingly true. The arrogant goblin king she knew in the council meetings was heartbreakingly beautiful, viciously charming, maddeningly seductive and made her so angry at times she could have screamed, she rather loathed the supercilious bastard, as she firmly told herself. The only reason that she was able to deal with him at all was that he was also a brilliant ruler, with an absolute and single-minded determination to protect his chosen and his people, and she whole-heartedly shared this determination. So they worked together for a common goal if grudgingly, forever testing each other, forever sparring, their guards up and their selves carefully shielded, just about tolerating the other for the common good.

The man she talked to when she was Eir however was nearly a friend. The goblin king Sarah knew in the castle kitchens was a very different man from the one she knew in the war council. She'd seen him drag the castellaine Ikiaq into a laughing dance through the kitchens as the servants had been singing some silly song they were fond of, or join them in a supremely obscene ballad that had they had taken a fancy to on another occasion, as he was visiting to help himself to some morsel directly from the simmering pots. Everyone working in the castle not only gave him his due as the king but seemed to genuinely like and admire him. He knew everyone's name and circumstances, easily inquiring about families and unobtrusively offering help when necessary, with a devil-may-care sardonic grin. Sarah thought that, for a blessing, unlimited memory capacity seemed to go along with immortal life, but she had still been surprised to find that he had been bothered to know those of no importance as much as the powerful courtiers. She had been jolted out of her complacency by his quick wit and even more by his amused und utterly unaffected poise when the joke was on him. Over time she came to understand how he was such an effective ruler, as he was endlessly curious about anything happening around him and had an astounding breadth and depth of knowledge about any number of topics, and always trying to learn more. As Eir she felt at ease with him, not measuring herself and finding herself lacking in some respect, and since she felt no obligation to be nice, she was herself instead when she bantered with him, smart, sarcastic, and unrestrained. And while even as a nearly-friend Jareth sent her hormones into overdrive, she could ignore that and just enjoy his company - even back in her human life she had had crushes on unavailable men, so it was nothing she could not deal with. Her reaction might be stronger than she had ever experienced in the past, but then again, she was not just the veterinarian Sarah any longer. Being an elderly dwarf trader allowed her to feel relaxed around Jareth, as she was confident he was not going to make her do anything she'd regret. She enjoyed his company, and maybe, just maybe, she might occasionally fantasize about him, but only as Eir, for she kept her adolescent daydreams strictly apart from Sarah, who remained wary and not completely trusting of the goblin king. Sarah had once tried to explain this strange mental arrangement to Nehorai, but he had just looked at her uncomprehendingly and declared her mad.

* * *

While Eir was finishing her baking, she told the goblin king of what she had seen in her travels, and her sharp observations and clear-sighted evaluations of the conditions faced by the denizens of the goblin kingdom wove reality on a much more personal level than the dry facts in the war council could. For this was what the goblin queen did best. Hers' was not the talent, nor the wish, to shape the fate of the kingdom among the great, but to see and participate in what came about as it happened. She shared the joy and the suffering of her people, and she understood politics and policies as they were experienced, not by those who made them, but by those whose everyday lives' were affected. Her blunt depictions of life in the goblin kingdom for those not blessed with power, wealth and magic were exactly the counsel that the king had been lacking. Jareth had found Eir's stories enlightening, to say the least, and his fondness of her as well as his respect for her judgment had made him consider asking her to join the war council. He came to his senses in time - not only was the trader on the road much of the time, he doubted that she had the patience or the manners to deal with the council. He shuddered to imagine a meeting with both Sarah and Eir in attendance, for while it likely would be entertaining, he doubted that he could face both women at the same time and escape unscathed. He had however begun taking the woman's advice into consideration when he thought about possible ramification of whatever decisions he took, and found that her advice, while rarely something any of his councilors would have thought of, often opened an avenue of inquiry that had not been explored before. Jareth was well pleased with the state of affairs, and the time he spend with the irreverent woman always passed quickly.

* * *

/

* * *

The goblin king strolled next to the dwarf trader as she left after finishing her day's work. His stride much longer than hers, he shortened his steps while sneakily keeping them just a breath too long for Eir, and she hurried along next to him rather ungraciously. He inconspicuously kept an eye on her while they were chatting, so when she realized what he was up to, her kick to his ankles missed completely as he laughed at her, keeping the infuriated woman well away from him as he held her at arms' length until her anger had run its course. When they finally made their way to the courtyard where her cart stood, as always Ikiaq had made sure that her hundun companion Ankimo had filled it with as many sacks of grain, dried meat and fruit as could be fitted in. Actually, rather more. Magic allowed for far more supplies to be loaded into Eir's gypsy wagon than would have been possible otherwise, without being too heavy for Lazarus to pull. Without the matter ever being discussed, the goblin king and the castellaine had decided that the dwarf trader made an excellent distribution system for food in the goblin kingdom. It was an arrangement that suited Sarah admirably, and all parties involved were well content.

Eir merrily cracked the whip over Lazarus head and the caravan rattled over the cobblestones of the court yard when Jareth's voice rang out over the din. "And Eir, since you tend to get around, be careful if you get to the Naryn. Should you travel to Quaraghandy, don't leave the roads. Actually, if I were you, I'd stay well away from any lush, high growth at all, grass is the highest green thing I would get close to. The goblin queen has been putting some very unpleasant guardians into the marshes of the Naryn, so don't even consider a bath in the river. I would hate to have to do without your pastries." With a grin Sarah lifted a hand to a not-so-polite salute over her head as the caravan left the courtyard and left the castle beyond the goblin city behind her.


	10. Chapter 9

CHAPTER IX

The goblin king and the goblin queen sat in chairs on a dais in the ball room in the castle, the fae king as breathtakingly beautiful as all of his kindred, if rather wilder and more unruly than was a fae's wont, and the goblin queen compelling in her human imperfection and her stunning if scandalous blood-red robes, clearly showing more curves than fae women had. Sarah kept a smile glued on her face and her eyes grimly on the crowd - the goblin king had a seemingly unlimited wardrobe, vain a as peacock he was, so why did he wear the bloody high-necked midnight blue tailcoat with the starlight embroidery tonight? As usual he cut a most seductive figure. For a moment she recalled the first time she'd seen him like this, and she stole a quick look at his face. Jareth, lounging most un-regally in his chair for an optimum view of the queen, caught her glance and smiled salaciously, sending a hot blush into her cheeks.

"Let me congratulate you, Sarah, your dress is the most delicious piece of illusion I have seen in many a year."

Sarah looked at him quellingly.

As usual, it did not quell the cheerful goblin king in the least.

"While you do not look any longer as if the next gust of wind would blow you away, my dearest, you are still too thin. Beautiful, but thin. However, this masterpiece of a dress would not let anyone suspect that your luscious curves are nothing as luscious as they have been, and hopefully will be again. Truly, you put the fae ladies to shame, my dearest Sarah. They are all presently considering padding."

Sarah knew that she should be outraged and insulted, but she could not help lapping up his compliments. Especially since the appreciative glint in his eyes seemed to bolster his bold words. She looked at him as coolly as she could, but found herself gazing into the ball room very quickly. She didn't think he actually was more beautiful than when she had been fifteen, so she had to accept that his hugely increased attraction just might have to do with the fully-functional set of hormones she was cursed with these days. It was just so unfair, she thought somewhat glumly, resisting the courtship of an overbearing, autocratic know-it-all with no concept of personal space or acceptable behavior would be much easier if he were not so bloody enticing, and playing on it.

Curious eyes from the elegant crowd in the ball room rested frequently on the king and the queen on the dais, yet nobody would have suspected that the goblin queen was tearing into the goblin king with all the gentleness of an angry hornet from either her sweet demeanor or his quiet amusement. Jareth had long found amused detachment to be one of the most efficient tools to drive Sarah to distraction, second only to riling her mercilessly. She could not help herself, if he was but outrageous enough in his statements, he could get her to loose control even if she knew full well he was leading her on. Oh, she was working on her self-discipline, and he would admit that she was a quick study, but he thought rather smugly that she was no match for a man with countless great years of practice in exasperating the world around him.

"Remind me again, goblin king, why I am here?" Sarah asked Jareth in a low, testy voice, leaning close to Jareth over the armrest of her own elaborate chair, her face a study of regal poise.

"I sincerely appreciate your presence, my dearest Sarah, as I know it is difficult for you to admit that you are here to please me. Everyone knows you are pining for me." Laughter tugging at the corners of his mouth, the goblin king took the queen's hand and teasingly kissed it, fairly sure that Sarah would not slap him, but ready to catch her hand in case he had miscalculated. She only tore her hand out of his, he had not yet lost his touch, he thought self-congratulatory. Skittish, the queen was.

He leaned towards Sarah's seat and spoke low, as to force her to move her head closer to his mouth. "Now, my sweet Sarah, there is no reason to be so incensed with me this time, as well you know. However, I shall be forever indebted to Tobias for convincing you to attend the reception for our gracious visitors from Annwyn and Danu. If he was not such an innocent I should be jealous." His breath was warm on her cheek, his scent as enticing as his nearness, and Sarah could feel goose bumps rise on her skin. "But then, it is not possible to feel resentment towards Tobias. And why would I? I have never seen you shy away from his touch as you do from mine."

As Sarah turned her head for a furious reply, she found his mouth but a breath away from hers and rapidly added some distance between them, if perhaps not as fast as she could have. "Tell me, goblin king," she hissed at him with color rising in her cheeks, "why you are so fond of making me uncomfortable? Just get on with it and make me an indecent proposal, so I can slap you and we're both done with it. Every time I nearly like you, you do your best to make me squirm. And then you're surprised we fight all the time?"

"Why would I be surprised, Sarah? This is a game I have played far longer than you can even imagine, and I have long learned that the pursuit is as pleasurable as the inevitable victory. You are the most startling and beguiling woman I have ever met, powerful and a challenge. You are my equal like no other woman can be, and your intractable nature is part of your charm. I do not care to be done with it, Sarah. I enjoy to see you fight the craving for my touch - it puts us on a much more equal footing. Not that I care to resist the attraction." Sarah stared at the goblin king with her mouth hanging slightly open, her eyes huge. Jareth laughed delightedly. Not for long, though.

Sarah hissed at him, far angrier than he had expected. "Just being the goblin king again, are you? You manipulate people's minds, and you rejoice in their confusion. You play to win, but you don't play fair. Oh, I can believe that I am a pleasant enough diversion for you, a distraction in a long life, a challenge, and perhaps you could even convince me that you desire me. But in truth, you do not want an equal. So what is the plan, make me fall for you so I will be you willing slave? If you take me to be the kind of flighty scatterbrain that can be swayed by her body's desires, you do not know me at all. You are fae, and such as I are drawn to your touch by our blood. It means nothing. Find some pretty girl who gives a damn." Her face afire with passion, the goblin queen rose abruptly from her chair and walked into the crowd with a dazzling smile frozen on her face.

* * *

Jareth leaned back on his chair and followed Sarah with his eyes. That had not unfolded quite as he had anticipated. Sarah was determined to read his every action in the worst possible light, and he wondered why she was so persuaded to distrust him. He could not understand how she could be oblivious to his attraction to her, she seemed to be beset by an inexplicable feeling of inadequacy when it came to her appearance. Yet even given her strange blindness to her own allure, how could she believe that he would want her as a bedmate only? She was the goblin queen, the chosen of the labyrinth, and he would not trifle with her. Not that he was contemplating the ... carnal part of their union with anything less than delighted anticipation. His Sarah was seriously underestimating the pleasures the body's desires afforded, although he was planning to show her the errors of her ways. Exhaustingly. But every word he had told her earlier was true, much more so than a human woman, in the underground for such a short time, could understand. He had not a moment's doubt that Sarah would be his queen, and he would be glad to rule the goblin kingdom with her by his side. She would be the most splendid queen the labyrinth had ever had, even more so than she already was. And if her pursuit might take centuries, it meant nothing to a creature as him, immortal and ancient. He savored her subterfuge, her anger, and her unwillingness to accept what had to be. She would love him, and she would be his. He admired her, he cared for her, and he would have her, and all her protestations would not change this. He would not be denied. Her submission would be ever sweeter for the fight she had put up. He did not doubt that he would love her in due course, for she was a woman who deserved love and brought it forth easily, and she would be his. And with a flourish the goblin king joined the celebration, laughing and flirting with his courtiers and guests.

Sarah cut a bold and regal figure among the dazzling crowd in the ball room in the castle beyond the goblin city, the very same room a beautiful king had tried to make a silly girl forget her responsibility to her brother all these years ago, and had so nearly succeeded. But she was not a girl any longer, and she had fought hard to be who she was. Sarah smiled viciously, and an admiring fae courtier who had approached her flinched from her ferocity in terrified exaltation. She had changed in the underground, and would undoubtedly keep doing so, as only in death there was no change, but her days of changing to please others were over. Her desire for the goblin king burned sharp in her, and he drew her in ways she could not even begin to describe, nor wanted to, yet he wished to shape her to his needs, and that could never be. Whatever she desired mattered much less than what she was called to, for all that she had been given came with obligations, which she had agreed to with open eyes. Her love of the labyrinth and her duty to it always came first, and the goblin king could not conceive of aught but a queen of his own making, whose first thought would always be him.

* * *

Sarah thought that parties were a lot more fun when you were a high-ranking guest. For once, she did not have to constantly censor every word that came to her mind to not offend anyone, nor did she have to be nice to everyone, however rude they might be, as for a change it was other people who were tripping over themselves to be polite and charming to her. She was showered with compliments, and while it never occurred to her that they as often as not were given from true admiration rather than for the currying of favors, it did not curtail her enjoyment in the least. In the end, a compliment was a compliment, and if it was well-delivered she was more than willing to join into a momentary suspension of disbelief.

She had fallen into a lively conversation with group of Fianna from Dyfed and had joined in an easy camaraderie with the fian as she, with passion, fire, and many expressive arm movements, praised the beauty of Dyfed. Sarah thought it astounding that the Above geography of Wales was basically the same as of Annwyn in the underground, and even the old names were the same. As she had spent two years in a veterinary exchange program in Wales, she knew exactly what she was talking about and was peppering the happily surprised fianna with never-ending questions about their lore and history. They were charmed and flattered by the goblin queen's obvious knowledge and curiosity as much as by her insistence of being called lady Sarah.

"Lady Eirlys, lady Heulwen," Sarah turned to the beautiful warrior women whose names so perfectly matched their looks. Eirlys was as pale as the snow her name denoted, while Heulwen's hair of the color of summer corn and her joyful disposition honored the sunshine she was named after. "Please, forgive me if I my question is rude, for I speak from ignorance and not ill-will, but how did your parents know that your names would so perfectly describe your appearance?"

With a laugh Eirlys answered the goblin queen, who had her head tilted like a little sparrow considering a seed. "I was seven years old when the goblin king brought me to my parents," she said with a smile in her voice. "My mother always told me that even then I looked like a moonbeam among a flock of ravens, for alone of all of them, I am pale. They felt I should have a name that reflected my looks, and here I am. Not that I have seen many snow-flakes in my life, as it rarely ever snows in Annwyn. "

"I was born to my family, lady Sarah, and it seems my family has never produced any offspring but was blond and reliably cheery, and so they named me appropriately. Sadly, they were right." Heulwen laughed along with the teasing remarks that followed her words. "You must understand, lady Sarah, that it is more common for names to not describe a person quite as well."

"I understand perfectly," Sarah said with a grin. "My dad once told me my mother wanted to name me Chastity. I cannot tell you how glad I was he could change her mind."

The giggles that followed her words quickly grew into a guffaw, Sarah laughing along without restraint.

"But I actually wanted to ask something else. I understand that of the one hundred and thirty fianna who came to the goblin kingdom, twenty and five are women." She smiled at the Fianna around her, the small Carmarthen fian of nine warriors, seven men and two women. "I am bound to be unwittingly insulting some of you, so forgive me, but I understand the training of the Fianna is truly challenging, and all of you stand a fair chance of not living to enjoy immortality. Now, as far as I can tell, men gain in status and in power when they are fian, but what is in it for you women? Fae women seem to be expected to take on the supporting side of things. And how the night do you ever manage to pass these tests?"

"Well, lady Sarah," said a charming young fian by the name of Wyn, who strongly reminded her of Toby. "As I am sure you know from first-hand experience, women have more to gain, doing what was is frowned upon. If you have been fian, at least you can be sure that the men that court you will never stifle your spirit. Yet still, most women do not care to live and die for an oath, so only few of them aspire to be fian. Most women cannot pass the tests. But then, most men cannot either. If you saw Heulwen or Eirlys in battle, you would not wonder about their prowess in fight. They are better than most men, and at least as good as any of us." He gave white Eirlys a cheeky grin. "Not as good as me, though."

Sarah smiled at the warrior women and asked very quietly: "This is not an order nor an official request from the goblin queen, but simply a question from one woman to another." She looked a bit anxious. "I never fought in the above, as there was never a need. I can barely defend myself from an attacker with a knife or a sword, but I believe I should learn. If you would be willing to spend some of your spare time with me, if you can find any, and teach me the basics of self-defense and how to use weapons, I will be in your debt. I do not expect to become an expert at anything, just learn enough to buy me enough time to call for help and live to see its arrival."

With a surprised smile, Heulwen gave the goblin queen a deep bow. "My lady, I know I speak for Eirlys as much as myself, we would be honored to teach you. We have not yet been told where we will be send, so we can begin working with you tomorrow if so you care. But I believe we should warn you, lady, you will need to work two hours a day at the beginning if you want to see any results, one hour to train with us and one hour to do your exercises." Eirlys smiled her agreement.

Sarah groaned, but said determinedly: "Sleep is overrated, I believe, so why do we not start the day after tomorrow? I cannot find enough hours in the day as it is, so do you believe that we might start at sunrise in the fencing halls? I believe they are empty at this time."

Eirlys looked at the goblin queen with frank admiration in her eyes and said simply: "Sunrise the day after tomorrow it is then, lady Sarah. We are honored that you would trust us to teach you."

* * *

Wyn had just been waiting for an end of the conversation and bowed deeply to the queen and asked her for the honor of a dance. And so Sarah found herself dancing with many partners through as many dances, and she did not float over the polished floors, light as a feather, as the court ladies did, but moved like lynx, her boundless energy barely contained. She also had a tendency to take the lead from her partner without ever noticing.

After making increasingly less gracious small-talk with ten different men who tried to impress her in ten different ways, she found herself in the arms of Tiernan ap Cethur Mc Greine, who looked at her with a smile that strongly reminded her of his brother, but without Jareth's ever-present challenge. "Lord Tiernan," she said with some relief in her voice. "I sincerely hope you will spare me the obligatory compliments that seem to have to be voiced when you dance with the queen, whether they are applicable or not."

Tiernan threw his head back and laughed out loud, his eyes of summer dancing with mirth, but his lead was sure and strong, and he moved her gracefully through the movements of the dance. "I had been planning to pay you lavish compliments, Lady Sarah, but you just have taken the wind out of my sails. Would it be alright if I pay you the truth, then? You look ravishing, lady, and the only thing those poor men before me tried to do with all their compliments, is to convince you to take them to your bed."

Sarah blinked at him a few times and burst into helpless giggles. "Well, that certainly is an interesting view." She was groping for words, but for the first time in a long time she was speechless.

Tiernan smiled at her while she tried to gather her wits. "I believe, Lady Sarah, that you do not understand how alluring humans are to us fae." His eyebrows rose at her un-ladylike snort. "Forever can be a very long time, my lady, and we are not a kindred that changes easily. Yet you humans do, in the blink of an eye your mood swings, your thoughts change course, your interest is diverted. It makes your kind fascinating. I have never seen strands of white in hair, lady, and no woman I have ever kissed has had lines in her face as you do. Can you truly not see the appeal? And you, lady Sarah, hold power, and power is an aphrodisiac to fae. How could my kind fail to lust after you?"

Sarah looked at him with approval. "You know, lord Tiernan, your brother should take lessons from you. He has been trying to strike me speechless for a long time, but to no avail. Yet you managed with one harmless remark." A wide grin broke on her face. "But I will say, your unconventional way of complimenting me is like your brother's. I would love to meet your parents. Which one of them is to be thanked for their sons' twisted ways?"

Tiernan laughed easily and began to tell her tall stories of a childhood in Danu with his brother Jareth, and Sarah enjoyed the easy rapport that had sprung up between them. She had met him countless times since she'd joined the council, but she found it difficult to find her way around him. He was a incomparable commander who had whipped the goblin army into shape when nobody had thought it possible, and the last years had seen him traveling the borderlands, alone and with Toby, organizing and training militias at the border. Yet for all his invaluable services to the goblin kingdom, he left no doubt that it was the bonds of kinship and brotherly love that compelled him, not a sense of obligation to the goblin kingdom. He was fae to the core, and while he was the most gracious courtier, it was abundantly clear that he was imbued with a sense of fae superiority of his own brand, as he obviously felt superior to most fae as well. Yet he had a sense of humor about him and an easy charm that made it hard to dislike him, whatever misgivings you had. Tiernan might have a lot of shortcomings, and serious ones at that, but he was charming as hell and lacked personal arrogance. Sarah smiled up at the beautiful fae lord and decided to give him another try. She had ever felt what mattered were a person's actions, not their words, and she would base her judgment of Tiernan Mc Greine on his deeds, not his stupid words.

* * *

The next dance with a suave courtier who complimented her lavishly passed much easier than the ones before, as whether it was true or not, she could not help being amused by the hidden meaning that Tiernan's words allowed her to glimpse behind his words.

* * *

Some time later, when she danced a waltz with the councilor Ningyo, she finally could ask the question that had been prying on her mind for a while. "Tell me, lord Ningyo, is it usual for so many humans to be at a formal ball? I have seen more of my kind tonight than I have for longer than I can remember."

Lord Ningyo carefully schooled his face to a neutral expression. "It is rare to see more than two, perhaps three humans at any formal ball, lady Sarah, and they always accompany other guests. I am sure you know that only very few humans have magic, and there are no human communities in the underground, so they tend to be absorbed into other groups. It is hard to gain enough acclaim to be invited to a celebration such as this when you are short lived and lacking in power."

Sarah didn't bother with a neutral expression and winked at him through a wide grin. "But of course you can find a nice position in a fae's bed if you are human, and then you might find yourself anywhere, isn't that so?"

Ningyo surprised her, as she had thought the man somewhat dour, but with a quick laugh he drew her closer and murmured into her ear to avoid eavesdropping: "I have warned you, my queen, the fae demesnes feel they have a right to the children that you and the king bring to the underground from Above, and they will try to humiliate you, now that their ... supply has run dry. None will insult you to your face, but they have spent countless great years honing the art of the slight, and they are out for your blood."

Sarah smiled at the grinning man with a raised eyebrow. "I would have expected you to be all solicitous and protective of me, my lord, yet you seem to find great amusement in this situation?"

"These fae don't know you, lady Sarah, but I have seen who you are since you joined the council. I should be ashamed to admit it, but I rather look forward to the bloodbath."

"You say the nicest things, Lord Ningyo. Why don't we get some refreshments and gossip a bit? I think I need ammunition."

* * *

When Jareth looked over the ballroom for Sarah, he found her in the middle of an animated group at one of the open doors to the terraces, her flushed face bright with intensity, making a point with her voice and her hands with great relish and sending the mixed group of courtiers around her into giggles. He recognized the huldra couple next to her, an old Elm lord and his Spruce lady from the forests of Kemerovo who had held power in the Kular range for as long as he had been king. They would have towered over the queen, but they had considerately seated their tall bodies on low chairs so their heads were at a level with Sarah. They must have taken a liking to the queen to accommodate her so and to truly partake in the conversation, Jareth thought, for huldra were slow to warm to anyone and it would take many meetings until they would feel comfortable enough for a conversation.

When he walked up to the group, he heard the tail-end of Sarah's words. "... be magic. I have been looking for an hour now, and as energetically as she dances they would have fallen out if it was not for magic." Her gestures left little doubt as to what was being discussed, but following the direction of Sarah's gaze made it crystal clear. The lady being discussed was the guest of the ambassador of Ardar Iforas, a buxom young human with stunning hip-length red hair, whose low-cut clingy dress left little to the imagination. Although, judging from the discussion, this was not strictly true.

"Definitely magic," Jareth stepped next to Sarah and joined the discussion without any ado. "I happened to observed a sadly unmannered young fian from Carmarthen, I believe his name is Wyn, try to liberate the lady's sorely squashed ... ahem.. appendices with a little magical encouragement, to no avail. It will not be an accident should they escape."

Sarah laughed with him delightedly, all earlier anger forgotten in her enjoyment of the evening.

"And this pretty thing is actually one of the less appealing ones," she observed shrewdly, "if you take a look at the other human guests, well, they may not be a beautiful as their fae lords, but they are a lot more ... earthy. Approachable. Bedable."

The old Elm lord laughed loudly and touched the queen's hand. "That's the spirit, girl. But you better prepare yourself," he said in his rumbling voice, "I am sure there will be some really impressive show of ... respect coming your way soon. To honor the queen, you know. Perhaps a dance, or some such thing."

"I just bet. In the Above we have some dancing that would fit perfectly into our fae guests plans." Prompted by the curious looks of her listeners, she explained. "Think poles in the middle of the room and much more scantily dressed human women doing intriguing and indecent things while wrapping themselves around those poles. Primal music, mainly consisting of a strong beat. That's pretty much it. Oh, and if the audience is so minded they may show their appreciation by pushing money into the minimal clothing of the dancers."

Jareth looked at her with a glint in his eyes and a grin on his lips. "Now, this sounds like the most intriguing dance I have ever heard of," he said with heartfelt conviction. To tell from several faces in the group around Sarah, he was not alone in this evaluation. "I am determined to see this dance, come what may." He smiled coldly. "But not tonight. And while I am sure that this idea would appeal to some of our guests, they are not suicidal."

* * *

Sarah looked at him with approval. "I believe we should put them out of their misery, goblin king." She lifted her head questioningly, and with an elegant bow Jareth offered his arm to the goblin queen who, with a gracious smile, put her hand on his arm. They walked towards the fae at the other end of the ballroom, but Jareth was not minded to let Sarah go that easily and drew her into a dance before she had time to think. In a heartbeat she found herself in his intoxicating embrace and spinning through the ballroom, and Jareth was smiling down at her. For a few moments Sarah threw all caution to the winds and allowed herself the illusion that he actually saw her, and not a challenge. She would just enjoy this dance, and so she let herself fall into Jareth's embrace and followed his sure lead. Sarah closed her eyes and smiled as she lightly moved with him to the rhythm of the music, his body much too close yet not enough, her skin alive with the nearness of him.

He should have know that keeping the lead was not a given when dancing with Sarah, Jareth thought amusedly, but she made up for it by being herself. Dancing was an enjoyable game, a civilized way to touch and entice a woman, and allow your partner to show her grace, her lightness, her delicacy. Dancing with Sarah was much more, the woman in his arms supple yet coiled with power, not a diversion but an antagonist he burned to vanquish and possess. Jareth was drawn to the unknowingly seductive smile on her face, acutely feeling the heat of her body and his need for her touch as he pulled her even closer, and he was sorely tempted to throw all caution to the winds and take her away.

When Sarah opened her eyes, she saw the goblin king examine her with an unsmiling face, wearing an expression she could not read. As she turned her head away in a moment's confusion, she noticed the many faces around them, looking at her and the king, and suddenly her memory brought her back to a dance whose subtle undertones she had barely perceived, too young to understand the danger that was the goblin king. Now she understood well the dangers, but she would no more give in as she had then.

Jareth watched her come back from her reverie, and come back angry, her body tense and suddenly resisting his touch, her open face closing under his watchful eyes, as antagonistic as she had ever been. As if she remembered something... His eyes widened. "You are a runner girl, my sweet lady Sarah, am I right?" he asked with a taunting laugh, "So this is the reason for your unexplainable dislike of me, is it not? I have been trying to remember if I have ever given you cause to disapprove of me so, and I could not think of anything,"

"What a self-serving memory you have, goblin king. You insulted me without ever having even talked to me, did you not?" Sarah could not restrain herself.

"But you already deplored me even then, admit it, my dearest Sarah. This of course throws a new light on your irrational reactions. You feel guilty about having wished someone away, and you neatly place the blame at my feet."

"I do not." Sarah was furious. "I know I did wrong, but I paid the price in full. I played by the rules that YOU set. Irrational reactions my ass. You cheated like crazy, you tricked me, you scared me to death, and now you have the bloody nerve to tell me that you are the wronged party in this?"

Invigorated by Sarah's near incoherent protests and anger, Jareth thought he would have a lot of fun with this information. But first he would put Sarah's fury and frustration to good use, it was time to see what the disgruntled fae with their little human pets had planned. Smoothly he turned Sarah out from the last turn of the dance and bowed to her: "Why do we not postpone this fascinating conversation until we have more leisure to get into the details?" Sarah's face left no doubt that as far as she was concerned, this little talk was not going to happen in her lifetime. "I do believe, my dearest Sarah, that we still have unfinished business with some of our guests at hand."

"But by all means, goblin king, let's go and be polite to our guests," she spat at him as she put her hand on his arm again, all the while staring daggers at him.

If looks could kill, he thought, he'd lie lifeless at her feet, but Sarah had her priorities straight. Jareth felt confident that he could stop her from actually maiming anyone, and after a brief consideration of the imminent risk of war he decided cheerfully that it would be worth it.

* * *

The goblin king and the goblin queen seemed to be chatting amiably as they left the dance floor. They took long-stemmed glasses of fire wine from the tray of one of the serving girls circulating through the crowd, standing commandingly between two columns at the side of the room, Sed and another guard a step behind them like statues. Ambassador Féilim Ó Súilleabháin and a high-born fae couple, the lord Cianáin Ó hUiginn and the lady Aodh Nic Gearailt from Ardar Iforas, with them several other fae lords and ladies from other demesnes in the underground, approached the sovereigns of the goblin kingdom. They were accompanied by sixteen humans, beautiful women and men of all races, all of them dressed to show their beauty to its best advantage. As they approached, all bowed deeply before the king and the queen.

"It is an honor to meet you, my lady," the ambassador said in a seductive voice. Sarah thought with contempt that it was but a poor imitation of what Jareth managed without even trying. "You are far more beautiful than the stories tell."

"And you are as sweet-tongued a liar as I would have expected from an ambassador, my lord Ó Súilleabháin, as even a impotent and blind idiot would clearly realize that any of the humans with you are far more beautiful than I ever was." Sarah looked at him with a patently false smile, "It is a pity, however, they did not teach you how to properly address a queen in ambassador school."

Féilim Ó Súilleabháin turned an ugly shade of red, but many great years survival in fae courts had taught him self-control. "Forgive me, your majesty, I believe I was misled by listening to the courtiers here, as everyone seems to be addressing you as lady Sarah."

Sarah looked at him with a mocking smile. "Oh no, you heard quite correctly, Ambassador, my subjects call me lady Sarah. I trust them, so I don't stand on formality. The moment you will swear your blood oath to me, I will be happy to have you address me by my name. Until then, you will give me the courtesy I am due."

Jareth followed the exchange in high spirits. He could see the faes' problem, they were expecting to deal with somebody like themselves in a war of words, veiled insults and insinuations. His Sarah went for the jugular without delay, and her preferred weapon was a club on the head, not a knife in the back.

The lady Aodh Nic Gearailt moved up to Jareth and put her hand on his arm, greeting him with the ease of a close relationship, a right she had well earned. "I have just returned from Tahat, my lord Jareth - oh, forgive me, should I say your majesty?" she smiled impishly at him, her breathtaking beauty a thing of songs and poems. Aodh was considered one of the most beautiful women in the underground, and Jareth saw no reason to doubt it.

"My sweet lady Aodh, I am sure we do not need to stand on protocol between old friends like us," Jareth purred at her with a wicked grin, and with a flourish he took the lady's empty glass from her hand and put it on the tray of a passing serving girl. He took two fresh glasses and gave one to the lady Aodh, the other one he offered to Sarah. She looked up distractedly and took the glass, turning back into the fray in a moment. Jareth devoted himself to flirting outrageously with lady Aodh, as the lady might well be willing to join him in his rooms tonight, and such a converstaion did not take but a small part of his attention, leaving him free to eavesdrop on Sarah's exchanges.

"Don't you miss the above sometimes, your majesty? After all, it was your home, and holds all that you know." Lord Cianáin said, unable to completely cover up how distasteful he found it to address a human so.

"Missing implies there is something Above I cannot have, lord Cianáin. Yet if there is something I want from the Above, I go there and get it. Of course I understand that the ability to move over to the Above is limited to the goblin king and the goblin queen, the fae being restricted to the underground alone?" Her solicitous tone sounded fake even to her own ears. Sarah smiled with sweet insincerity.

"I do believe restricted is not the right term," the haughty lord Hurin replied with a clipped smile. He was a powerful baron from Matagamon, a rich demesne which was home to a sizeable part of the fae population in the underground. The newly imposed ban on giving children to allies only had caused a strong negative reaction in Matagamon. "Who in his right mind would want to go to the Above unless they had to?" Lord Hurin attended the reception with two human companions, a delicate Bantu woman and a man who looked like a Han warrior. Sarah thought with pity that if the gossip about Hurin was true, his pets were not to be envied. Hurin was known to have little regard for any but fae, and his tastes ran towards the violent. He looked at the goblin queen with barely veiled anger. "After all, what does the Above have to offer to us fae that we do not already possess? Or want, at that matter?"

"Spoken like a man who has never tasted a Big Mac in his life. But surely, lord Hurin, it would seem that the above has at least supplied you with human companions, which is not something you could get here. And you must be doubtlessly very fond of them, as you have brought them to the reception."

With crystalline laughter, standing very close to the goblin king, the lady Aodh turned to Sarah. "Oh, ...your ... majesty, I am confident your king is very fond of you as well. And it is easy to see why, such a high-spirited woman."

"I am sure I am ... honored by your approval, lady Aodh. Although you might want to spend some more time on the wording of your praise. If I was so minded I might take offense. You really should try some subtlety, lady, though that may be beyond your ken." Sarah's cold eyes and voice sent a shiver of apprehension over the fae lady. Sarah disinterestedly shifted her attention to the goblin king and fell into deep, formal obeisance, beautifully executed and utterly ridiculous looking on her proud form. She got up with considerable less poise, however, and gave him a crooked grin. "So, goblin king, what do you make of your pet then? Am I properly housebroken yet, or does my training still leave something to be desired? Am I the obedient little goblin queen you had in mind?" Sarah looked at the flustered lady Aodh with contempt. "I do not believe the goblin king has a pressing need for what humans are famous for among the fae. I doubt he is as easily seduced by the pleasures of the bedroom as you seem to think, not that he would turn them down. It isn't as if he hasn't had just about any woman he wanted in his bed. And he certainly is not limiting himself to humans." She threw Jareth a laughing look. "Or beds, I suspect."

It took every ounce of control Jareth possessed to keep his face impassive and not show his amusement as he took in the shocked and affronted faces of the courtiers. The queen wasn't as easily intimidated as they had expected. And she was a lot cruder.

* * *

Sarah walked up to the group of humans that stood together as if for support. She gave silent thanks to her luck, at over six foot at least she would not look like a tiny ugly duckling amongst swans. Being able to look down at people did wonders for one's self-esteem. She flashed a toothy grin, perhaps that explained the unshakable superiority of the fae, and their dislike of so many of the other kindreds - the fae after all were not the tallest kindred, easily topped by the huldra and others.

Sarah could not know what an incongruous picture she made among the other humans, she barely seemed to be related to her own kind. The human companions who had been brought to the reception had been carefully chosen for their beauty and blatant sexual attraction, without power or pride, to show off the goblin queen as the member of a cruder kindred, only not as beautiful as her brethren. Yet the goblin queen transcended beauty. Neither as beautiful as the human pets nor their fae masters, yet she enthralled and enticed. Her lips asked for kisses, her skin invited touch, her soft body called for caresses, yet her eyes told that what she had to offer came at a steep price; no plaything, she. Sarah radiated the power of wild magic, it touched the tips of her short chocolate-brown curls around her mobile, animated face with flashes of magic, the energy in her barely contained, seeping out in her expressive hands and voice, and her careless disregard for fae customs and manners well illustrated her opinion of them, as of her confidence in being able to face them on their own terms. Sarah was an earsplitting scream in a room of polite whispers.

The human guests reacted to the queen as they did to the fae, inexorably drawn to her, smiles and desire strong on their faces they drew near her, searching out her attention and Sarah was chatting and laughing with them in a short time, lively and at ease.

* * *

The lord Hurin, furious at finding their intentions thwarted, stomped over to the group and grabbed his Bantu companion cruelly at the arm, snarling at the woman in a low voice, making her blanch. Sarah looked at him menacingly as she looked pointedly at the white marks the fae lord's grip left on the young woman's arm. With a forced smile he begrudgingly let go of the woman's arm and turned to the goblin queen, to find the goblin king having appeared soundlessly next to her, a sneer on the narrow, arrogant face. "I am glad to see that your friends have taken a liking to the goblin queen, my dear lord Hurin," Jareth remarked with a smile that did not reach his eyes. "I am sure it is an enlightening experience for them to realize that the goblin kingdom allows freedom of choice for all its denizens, a free mingling among equals."

Hurin was shaking with fury, barely able to constrain himself, and Sarah's disdainful inspection of him did not help matters any. Sed, as always behind his king, showed his teeth in a wolfish grin of anticipation. But fae were cut from sturdy cloth, and the fae lord regained his control. "I am glad you get along so well with my ... friends, your majesty," Hurin said smoothly to Sarah, "but I am not surprised, like calls to like, isn't that so?"

Sarah looked at Hurin with a languid smile, and Jareth stilled and readied his power to ward off a strike against Sarah should it become necessary. The goblin queen walked up close to the imposing fae lord and flirtatiously chided him. "But of course you know, my lord, that mere humans like me are drawn to such as you, do you not?" With a seductive smile she slowly raised her leather-clad hand to Hurin's face and delicately traced his cheekbone with her fingers. Hurin's insolent expression dissolved at the queen's touch, a shiver ran through his body and his breath escaped in a shuddering exhalation. An expression of fierce hunger touched on his face as he unconsciously leaned into the queen's teasing touch, his face mirroring the look of a human drawn to fae.

Jareth's eyes widened. Power was leaching from the queen's body as from his, her touch sending rivulets of magic into the person she touched, an intimate and arousing sensation that was best minimized as much as possible. That would explain why she always wore gloves, as was he. He grinned. It was not complete protection, as her reaction to his touch showed, and as Hurin learned to his regret now. It certainly explained his own reaction whenever he touched her.

At length the queen pulled her hand back from lord Hurin's face and smoothly stepped back to stand next to Jareth, a condescending smile on her lips. The visibly shaken Hurin bowed perfunctory to them and escaped to hide his shame away from the prying eyes of his brethren. Sarah seemed minded to pick up the conversation with the rattled fae where she had left off earlier, but Jareth felt that a little bit of the queen went a long way. With practiced charm he extricated Sarah from their suddenly far more polite and circumspect guests and escorted her away to mingle with their other guests.

* * *

Many glasses of fire wine and more dances later Sarah walked unnoticed to the open doors the terrace to catch a breath of the mild night air to cool her down. To her surprise she found the lady Sindri standing in the shadows of the velvet curtains, her cheeks flushed with wine and anger, visibly fighting for her countenance.

"What are you staring so morosely into your drink, Sindri? That glass is much to small to drown yourself in, trust my experience in these things. Where is the dashing lover? Off to slay a dragon for you, or whatever a hero does for the damsel around here?"

"If you don't stop this instant, Sarah, I will burst into tears right here. Or perhaps screams, it doesn't matter. It will not be a pretty sight, however, and Porr shall hate you forever. "

"Ooh, that bad? What has lover-boy been up to now?"

"That is definitely the wrong question, Sarah. Remember, we are talking about Porr. He is never up to anything. Tell me, is there something wrong with me? Have I been misunderstanding the situation all these many years? I have been so patient, and I have told myself that he is well worth waiting for, but this is getting beyond ridiculous. It is exactly what you humans say in the Above. My bell is ringing, but he just won't hear."

Sarah looked at her with a blank face for a moment, then dissolved into very un-ladylike giggles. "Well, close enough. We actually use the term 'my clock is ticking'. But considering that you have a fair bit more great years before the alarm goes off, I don't believe you need to be concerned quite yet."

"Well, at the speed Porr is moving, I certainly cannot be sure about that."

"Don't be so sour so young, Sindri, it isn't becoming. I admit he is a bit too circumspect for just about anyone's taste, but what stops you from making the first step?"

"Do you believe I have not done this? I have been subtly encouraging - for several centuries no less. I finally gave up on subtlety, but it did not make a difference as far as I could tell. He always stares at me like a wounded doe when he thinks I am not looking, he is so charming and sweet when we talk, and he does seek me out whenever he can, but that is a far as he ever goes. I even flirt with him, which is not a pretty sight as it does not suit my style, but he just does not seem to get it. And yet he keeps courting me in his clumsy way. I swear, Sarah, if I did not know that he is a brilliant man I should consider him an irredeemable idiot."

"Perhaps he doesn't understand words. Lots of men don't."

Sindri looked at her with some exasperation. "So, I just go up to him and kiss him?"

"That should do in a pinch, but I suspect Porr could foul even that one up." Sarah was smirking now. "No, I was rather thinking of going to his room while he works one of his late evenings, and try out his bed in your birthday suit. You know the long nights he is keeping. There is a really good chance you'd be in deep sleep by the time he comes in. Odds are, when he finally wakes you up, you'll have missed all the embarrassment and get to move straight to the fun part." Sarah grinned. "And just imagine what a great story that will make when your children ask you 'And how did you and Daddy first get together?'"

When the women's laughter had finally calmed down, they determinedly set out to forget all that ailed them, and with much flirting and drinking finished the evening on a most enjoyable note.

* * *

/

* * *

A week after the ball Jareth strolled back to his rooms from an afternoon in the stables with his milk-sister Nerromiktok's great horses. He saw his chancellor walk towards his own rooms in one of the hallways, and something in Porr's stance made him lengthen his stride and catch up with his friend. A short look into Porr's face convinced the goblin king that something was wrong indeed, and without listening to his protestations he forced Porr to follow him into his library.

"Now, you can protest that it is nothing and you have no idea what I am saying, and I will refuse to listen to you, and this little charade will go back and forth until one of us gives in." Jareth gave Porr a mocking salute. "If memory serves me right, that has never been me. So why don't you save us a lot of useless talk and just tell me what is bothering you, Porr. You know me too well, old friend, to even hope for escape."

Porr looked at Jareth with an unconvincing smile, his jaws set. "You must be bored, Jareth, to be so insistent when nothing is going on."

Jareth sat down in one of the chairs and with a flick of his fingers two mugs of hot larak appeared on the small table beside the chairs. "At the rate this is going, we might be in for a long night. You may want to make yourself comfortable, Porr, because you are not leaving until you have told me about nothing." He grinned, teeth showing. "And you know better than to try the doors, don't you? I doubt your magic can trump mine, but if you think things have changed since the last time we were here, be my guest."

Sullenly, Porr said down and wrapped his fingers around the mug, staring into the lapis depths as if his salvation lay at the bottom. Jareth leaned back comfortably in his chair, perfectly content to wait as long as it took for Porr to open up. After minutes of silence, Porr finally spoke up. "For months now she leaves the castle in the evening, at least once a week, sometimes twice. She wears a dark cloak, and a basket with I know not what, and when I try to follow her at a distance she vanishes withing minutes however hard I try to follow. My magic is much stronger than hers, so how does she vanish? I worry about her."

"You have considered talking to her, haven't you, Porr?" Jareth was careful to keep his amusement out of his voice. A man desperate in love did not need to be made light of.

"What would I say, Jareth? 'Where are you going? I don't like it.' I have no right to ask questions of her," Porr sounded desperate.

"And whose fault is that? I have seen glaciers move faster than you do, Porr. You do realize that Sindri is a beautiful woman, and you are not the only man who has shown an interest in her? How long are you going to wait, until you finally get up the nerve to ask her whether you may pay court to her as you should? I cannot imagine that the lady Sindri has found a lover outside the palace," and mercilessly Jareth drove home the point he was making, it was time Porr realized that he risked loosing Sindri if he could not gather his courage, "but there are many crafts- and tradesmen that come to the palace, and not all of them are as blind and slow as you are". When he looked at Porr's horror-stricken face, he relented. "But I believe there is a much more innocent explanation for Sindri's sojourns from the castle."

He moved his hand just so, and a scrying crystal appeared on his palm. He took the crystal between his fingers, and in the air before the table a man-sized image appeared in the air, faithfully depicting all it faced. With a quick turn of his wrist, the crystal was gone, and Jareth said with satisfaction "Done! Sit down, Porr, now we will have to wait. The crystal is at the bottom of the basket, but when Sindri arrives where she is going, it will find a vantage point from which we can see and hear what happens."

And he sat back in his chair, drinking his tea, sure all they would see would be Sindri visiting the house of some relative or friend who had come to the goblin city.

* * *

/

* * *

The lady Sindri did not have strong innate magic, but her skills were well-honed and sure, and with a charm Sarah had given her she wove a sound spell of concealment to protect both herself and the whereabouts of the goblin queen's home in the goblin city. Wrapped in a simple dark wool cloak she walked the wet, dark streets from the castle to one of the poorer parts of town, and any eye that touched on her small form would move over her without truly noticing. Even those on the streets for dubious purposes would barely discern her, forgetting her as soon as she had passed. It was an exceedingly efficient spell as much power was needed to render anything truly invisible, but distracting the minds of an observer required very little strength. The heavy basket on her arm feeling as if it were getting heavier, and drenched to the bone by the deceptively soft rain she finally arrived at Sarah's home. Befitting its occupant, the tiny, shabby house in a run-down part of the goblin city was much more than met the eye. Only those who knew the goblin queen would ever see the truth of the house. Everyone else saw a house like any of the dwellings in the area, barely big enough for a small living room and a kitchen on the ground floor, a few tiny windows, with a narrow staircase leading to tiny sleeping quarters under the roof, just big enough for a bed and a chest under the eaves. A small back yard to let the occupants to grow whatever food they could and keep some chickens and rabbits to supplement their diet, or in Sarah's case give her dogs a spot do dig holes and run. There was no response to Sindri's knocks, so she opened the door with her keys. As she climbed up the narrow, rickety stairs, her wet, cold clothes dried up more with each step and when she reached at the top of the flight, her clothes were dry. As Sindri pushed open the low door to the room and entered, as always she was stuck how bare it was compared to the rooms in the castle. The queen's room was many times bigger than could be possibly contained within the tiny house, and while it was comfortably if shabbily furnished with discards from the junkyard, it lacked any of the many fine pieces of furniture that could be found in even the poorest rooms in the goblin king's palace. A table and a few mismatched chairs, a few chests at the back of the low couches set facing each other in the middle of the room and the fireplace, and then books - stacked wherever there was space. The couches were beset by stacks of books, teeming towers of them leaning against any bit of wall available, and the queen's low bed was mostly cordoned off by layers upon layers of books. Sindri smiled, Jareth's library was much more extensive, having been built over countless great years, but his books were properly shelved, taking over many rooms to make a truly impressive library. She hoped Sarah would decide on shelves before all her books collapsed on her. How could she ever find any one tome that she wanted? But if the furnishing left something to be desired, the walls did not. The room had a wealth of huge windows along two walls, each opening to a different vista in the goblin kingdom, and all of them now showing a velvety black nightscape, the bright stars and both moons full in the sky, glittering electric blue over the eternal snow of the peaks of the Simien mountains; over the endless Plains of Ashes, the dry white grass longing for a spark, reflecting the moonlight like restless water; over the ripening thick green spikes of wheat and rye in the central plains moving lazily under the bright moonlight like oil; and over many other scenes that Sindri did not recognize. She thought dryly that, all in all, Sarah's windows were a lot more pleasing than many of the pictures that graced - or rather not - the walls of the castle. Upon the councilor's entry the room had lit up magically, bathed in early summer daylight, and Sindri carried her basket to the fireplace and put it down. It was chilly outside, but the queen's living quarters, shaped by the labyrinth's very essence, were ever warm and comfortable, like a mother's embrace. Sindri took kindling from a basket at the fireplace and within a few minutes had a fire going, ready to cook dinner for herself and Sarah.

* * *

Unbeknownst to Sindri, while she had started the fire Jareth's scrying crystal had quietly rolled out from the bottom of her basket and up the wall, to come to rest on the man-high mantle of the fireplace, nestling into the shade between some storage containers and kitchen utensils.

* * *

Sindri looked around in the cold chest Sarah kept in the corner, next to her few dishes, but it held nothing but some containers that Sindri could not identify. What was this red soupy stuff in a glass bottle, the lettering on it reading "Heinz Tomato Ketchup"? A quick taste decided the dwarf lady that it was not meant for consumption. It was as sweet as molasses, but like tomato as well, a strange and rather inedible combination. After she had burned her taste buds into oblivion with a healthy taste of "Sambal Oelek" she decided that humans liked inedible things. As she had seen Sarah eat real food, she decided to cook a stew with the food she had brought with her. Within a short time Sindri had a big iron pot of stew with hake, cod and vegetables simmering on the crane over the edge of the fire, and daringly she decided to add some of that strange spicy Sambal paste - it would add an edge that should go well with the stew. Not knowing when Sarah would come home, Sindri moved the crane to the outer edge of the fire to keep the stew warm and retired happily to one of the couches with a book chosen haphazardly from one of the piles.

Seated comfortably in the library, cups of larak cradled in their hands, Jareth and Porr took a good look around the room through the crystal. They were confused. The room lacked all trappings of wealth and power, yet the windows were a work of potent magic. It might have been the room of a scholarly mage unconcerned with outward success. Porr was distressed. Sindri seemed well at home at the place and had made herself comfortable with the ease of someone performing an often-repeat action.

Sindri was drawn out of her fascinated immersion in the life of the riddle master of Hed by the door banging open and lifted her head to see Sarah shuffle into the room looking like something the cat dragged in. The goblin queen lifted her head to the bright light in the room and a smile broke on her face. As Sindri walked up to her, Sarah flashed a blinding smile at her, her hands unobtrusively hidden in her skirts, and said with rough, tired voice: "Not another step, Sindri. Forgive me for being so late, I didn't imagine you'd come here tonight since you just visited the other day. I'm filthy, I stink, and I am cold to the bone. I need a hot bath and some hot food, and by the smell of it you have taken care of the most time consuming part already."

"You still eat fish, don't you Sarah?" Sindri said as she looked over the exhausted goblin queen with a dismayed face. "Will Nehorai join us for dinner?"

* * *

Jareth's face had gone grim when he beheld the bedraggled figure of the goblin queen, and her words and the mention of a man's name made it grimmer still.

* * *

"Well, luckily for me, no fish have as yet talked to me, so yes, I still eat fish. And it smells delicious, so I promise I'll be fast. But it will just be the two of us for dinner, Nehorai has gone home to the mists until I go back onto the road, and luckily he has taken the dogs with him," and with a smile Sarah went to her luxurious bathroom, her one indulgence. Behind a plain door hid a fantasy that would have made a Roman emperor blanch with envy, with a hot bubbly pool carved from malachite, forever overflowing with sweet-smelling water of whatever temperature the occupant wished for, and a soothing waterfall shower that put technology to shame. The floors and walls were covered with the softest pale blue grass, a soothing golden light suffused the air, and a soft warm breeze filled the room with the sweet scents of spring grass. Sarah occasionally felt guilty about having the labyrinth waste any of its magic on her, but she enjoyed her baths too much to really give a damn.

Barely a moment had passed when the door opened again and several grinning goblins flew out bathroom, followed by their queen's voice: "This is the final warning, my little imbeciles, so you best pay heed! If even one of you shows his face in here while I take a bath, I swear I will rip you to pieces, dunk you into the bog, and then feed you to the hellhound – out now! And if you have pissed in the bath I'll kill you anyway." The utterly unimpressed goblins picked themselves up from wherever they had rolled and joined growing crowd of goblins who seemed to multiply in all corners of the large room as nobody was looking. While they were certainly noisy and created a running hazard, they left Sarah's books well alone and kept their hands away from the fruit that was on the table. As Sindri pushed the cradle with the stew pot back over the fire, filled the water kettle and began cutting thick slices of bread, Eek came over and greeted her with a grin, then grabbed plates and spoons from the chest and began setting the table. Sindri could hardly suppress a grin, she wondered how Sarah had managed to train her goblins so well, they were not only much better behaved than the crowd in the goblin king's castle, but they were also a good deal cleaner.

When Sindri heard the door open, she turned to see Sarah in a soft unbleached cotton chemise under a faded green surcoat that had seen better days; but at least she was clean and dry, if still too thin and tired looking. Eek jumped up on his Sarra's shoulder and held on to her hair as he settled into a comfortable position. Something in the queen's demeanor made Sindri unobtrusively keep an eye on her, and she walked up behind her quietly as Sarah opened a small chest and took out a jar of ointment.

"What is wrong with your hands, Sarah?" she asked, her voice strained with shock as she took one of the queen's torn hands, the palm covered with red welts and broken blisters. "Night, have you been digging ditches?"

Sarah looked at her with a fatigued smile. "Don't worry about it, Sindri, it's fine, just let me put some ointment on them."

Sindri roughly took the jar and put it back into the chest, then she took the queen's hands into hers as she invoked a healing spell. Even healed, the queen's hands were red and showed the signs of hard physical labor, the skin thickly callused and crisscrossed with tiny white scars. "Your hands look worse than a washerwoman's, my queen, let me heal them for you," she said, barely keeping her emotions under control.

"Don't, Sindri, I need these calluses," Sarah said as she pulled her hands away. "I work with my hands. If you gave me soft ladies' hands, they'd just bleed faster and worse than ever. Leave them be."

Sindri bit her lip. "But ..., why did you not heal yourself, Sarah?"

"Oh Sindri, I don't know how." With just a touch of bitterness in her voice Sarah continued. "I am only human. I share in the labyrinth's power, but I have never learned the use of magic. All I know is what I have taught myself by trial and error since I came here. I don't know how to use healing magic on myself." She gave Sindri a loop-sided grin. "But you know, Sindri, I am starving, so let's eat first. I really need to get some food into me before I get into any kind of discussion."

* * *

The silence in the goblin king's library was deafening. Jareth and Porr had followed the exchange between Sarah and Sindri with rising horror. A look at the queen's hands had suggested to Jareth that perhaps her decision to always wear gloves when she was at court had less to do with avoiding to leach magic, than drawing unwanted attention to her hands, and how they got to look as they did. How in the night could the goblin queen not know magic?

* * *

Sindri held her tongue as they sat down for their dinner and found herself unexpectedly amused as she watched Sarah. Sitting down was a rather involved process for the goblin queen since as many goblins as possible tried to get close to her as possible.

When she was finally able to take her first sip from the steaming mug of larak, she had a goblin each sitting on her shoulders and one holding on to the top of her head, although Eek had made sure that the only the very smallest and lightest of goblins took these lofty seats. Several others crowded on her lap, with Eek in the position of pride in the center, which gave him the additional strategic advantage of being able to snatch some food from Sarra's plate when she wasn't paying attention. Several ugly heads peeked out of the pockets in Sarah's skirts, and even more goblins hung on to the chair the queen was sitting in, occasionally touching her hair, poking her and generally making a nuisance out of themselves. The floor around the queen was packed with even more goblins fighting with each other to get as close to her as possible. Sarah ignored them with the ease of long practice.

The dwarf lady made sure to fill Sarah's bowl twice, heaped with as much fish as possible, and fed her as many slices of bread as she could, until finally Sarah pushed back her chair with a smile on her face. "However much you would like to fatten me up, Sindri, I cannot eat another bite." Sarah removed the goblins from her and refilled their cups to the rim with steaming, lapis larak. "I am sure we can be much more comfortable on the couches, so let's go there for the inevitable sermon."

As they sat down on opposite couches, Sindri watched with mounting amusement as the goblins repeated the whole earlier rigmarole of draping themselves either on top or at least as close as possible to their queen who seemed happily oblivious to the whole procedure and began petting whatever goblin came under her hands as she settled down comfortably on the couch.

"It is not my place, my queen, to tell you what you can do," Sindri started decorously, but she found her words immediately interrupted by Sarah's disbelieving snort. Sindri looked up peevishly and decided to forgo the courtly talk - it was wasted on the goblin queen anyway. "What the night did you do to tear your hands so, Sarah?"

"The storm that blew over the city this last week flattened a lot of trees in the forest outside the city walls." Sarah said matter-of-factly. "We figured we should take advantage of it, and the whole neighborhood went out with the carts to cut up the trees for firewood in winter."

"But what do you need wood for, Sarah? It is always a perfect temperature in here, the labyrinth keeps it so."

She sounded confused. Sarah did not blame her, but she did sometimes wonder how the courtiers thought everyone else lived. "You are right, I am always warm here, but my neighbors are not. They need the firewood, and we always go out together to cut it. Only humans, dwarves and haltija can touch cold iron, so it falls to us to wield the axes and saws."

Sindri found herself getting angry with her stubborn friend. "So you have been out cutting wood in the rain all day, all week, and there is not enough food here to feed a dog. Although, last time I saw them, both dogs looked well fed, which cannot be said for you. I bring you a basket of food every week, Sarah, but where is it? You are so thin, Sarah, you don't eat enough." Sindri could not stop herself. "You give the food to the others, don't you? Oh my lady, who takes care of you? You are the goblin queen, you should not go hungry in the heart of your kingdom. You are not helping anyone by living like this, always hungry, exhausted, clinging to survival like the meanest of your subjects."

She had a lot more to say on that topic until finally Sarah snapped. "Stop it, Sindri. I am the goblin queen, and I live in the labyrinth as my subjects do. What is wrong with this? They are hungry, and I share their fate. I am immortal, and I will not die from hunger. Let it be, Sindri." She cradled the cup of larak between her hands. "There is a ork family in the neighborhood, Awrang and Farkhonda. They have a small child. They work their fingers to the bone to feed the little one, but you don't know how hard it is. Food has become so expensive, and they have nothing left of value that they can trade." Sarah swallowed hard. "Farkhonda was blessed with another child on the way, but three weeks ago she lost it. Always hungry, always feeding the child before eating themselves. What do you want me to do, Sindri? Eat your food and watch the children die? We share our food and make do with less, to make sure the children eat. We get wheat from the king's granaries, but it is never enough."

Sindri was crying now. "But Sarah, how does it help them if you're here with them, hungry and desperate as they are? I thought the granaries still had enough food to feed the people in the city. You could have helped them more if you were in the castle where you could make sure that the help goes where it is needed. Oh Sarah, you ARE the goblin queen, and you belong in the castle beyond the goblin city."

* * *

Jareth' face was as white as bleached bone, his eyes black in his shocked face, as he listened to the lady Sindri's words and his heart agreed with every word she said.

* * *

"You don't understand, Sindri. The goblin kingdom is ruled as well as can be, the food is distributed where it should, and if the poor go hungry, they do not starve. If I were in the castle, nobody would get more food, and how would I know who needs it anyway? We will all live to see the next harvest. I am the goblin queen, but Sindri, think! The goblin kingdom never needed a queen before the labyrinth choose me. My presence in the castle would not make a whit of a difference to the ruling of the kingdom or the how the people live. I was chosen not for the ruling, but for the labyrinth. The goblin king needs no help to rule." As Sarah moved a couple of goblins around to tuck under her feet, Eek pushed another one off her lap and crawled on as she was settling, leaning into her. "The labyrinth has made me its own, all of who I am at its disposal, and shares its magic and its power. Yet mine is not the power of high magic that the kindreds of the underground have, Sindri, I cannot use magic like you do. I can re-order time, I can move across the labyrinth in a heartbeat, I can use the magic I need for the runners. I have learned a little control to use the power for healing, but there are no books to learn magic from, and trust me, I have looked. The shedim shape magic with dreamsong, which is what I can do anyway, for what else is shaping reality with my dreams? Nothing I have to offer is of any use to aid the goblin king in his ruling, but only to the labyrinth itself and its people." Her voice became wistful. " I dream of the Queen's Palisade still, and of the wild hills over the central plains, in the nights after I bury another child on another farm, and all my hunger for peace creates the only beauty I still see, there. It is so beautiful at the shores of the lake in the mountains, you cannot imagine, Sindri. When I just want to run away, I think of the giant birds in the air over the lake, and they never touch the ground, being born alive, and riding the wind on their parents' back until they can fly. Dreaming them keeps me sane."

Sarah's face was alight with joy as she described the wonders of the world she created from her mind together the labyrinth. But soon a shadow fell on her face again.

"But mostly these days I see the need among my people, and I dream what might be of use. If I never again dream into existence a line of solid, old willow trees to act as windbreakers, it'll be too late. And do not get me started on streams. Why the night do people start farms without making sure they have some water supply but the sky? Oh, and let's not forget the various monsters I dream into existence. I never realized what a vicious imagination I had until I saw some of the things that I dreamt up." Sarah lifted her cup to her mouth, but stopped midway when she realized it was empty. Quick as lightning Eek grabbed the cup and jumped off her lap, stopping for a moment to take Sindri's empty cup on the way to the pot over the fire. He returned with the filled cups and returned to his seat on Sarah's lap.

Jareth swore exquisitely and extensively for well neigh a minute, and he never repeated himself once. His queen should not ever live like this, she should be dreaming of what she wanted, the things she enjoyed, not live a life that left her exhausted, disgusted, full of self-loathing. His hands were clenched to fists at his side.

"Thank you, Eek," Sarah smiled at the little goblin as she took up her story again. "This is what I am to the labyrinth, Sindri. I am the queen, but not for the ruling. I love the labyrinth, I love its goblins, and I love its people. I want to live among them and know their lives. If I survive this war," and Sindri turned white as a sheet at her words as did Eek, as did Jareth and Porr in the library in the castle beyond the goblin city, "I will be happy again. Before the attacks began, I was happy. For this is what this goblin queen is, Sindri. All of it. It is not the castle, or the silks and jewels. Just dreaming the labyrinth and loving its creatures."

Sindri was not convinced. "Jareth is the goblin king, he loves the labyrinth and its people as much as you do. You said yourself, the kingdom is well run. Would not the king and the queen together to an even better job?"

"A remark like this makes me wonder if he hasn't somehow blackmailed you into swaying my opinion to his wishes," Sarah said dryly. "Luckily for you I know you are simply deluded." She laughed. "He is the goblin king. He was a skillful and talented mage long before he was chosen, the son of a powerful ruler, born to privilege and glory. Also a bit unstable and wild, from all I can gather, which doubtlessly stood him in good steed once he got to be king here. He shaped the goblin kingdom in many ways, and made it much more secure and powerful than it had been before. A distrustful mind can be a great resource. The goblin kingdom is better organized and run than any place I have seen in the above - there seem be to obvious advantages to not having to shill for majorities. And he is actually keeping diplomatic ties with all the other demesnes who would like to see us wiped out. So why fix something that isn't broken in the first place? Adding me to this mixture, even if I were willing, would be a recipe for disaster. The goblin king was born to be a ruler. I am not. I am just human – a nothing, not pretty, not smart, not politic, not diplomatic, neither willing nor able to actually organize and run a kingdom. All I can do is dream and love. It's little enough, but I do it well. It's enough for me."

"Why do you think so little of yourself, Sarah?" Sindri asked quietly. "The kingdom is growing still, so much bigger than it ever was, filled with wonders that none in the underground has ever seen, all this from you union with the labyrinth. You can see through people's mask to who they are, you know what is real, and it is the narrow-minded, stupid ones who get stuck on the outside, my queen. I will admit, inviting you for a diplomatic meeting might not be the best idea, but then, many people would not make good diplomats. And you are beautiful."

Sarah had listened to Sindri with wistful expression on her face until the end of her words. "And there you go ruining such a perfectly lovely list. Sindri, I was not even beautiful when I was young, very pretty I'll admit, but pretty fades with the years, leaving behind an unremarkable face." Sarah sang a blues chorus to her friend: "To old to be pretty, to plain to be beautiful, too good-looking for ugly, just a face in the crowd." She grinned. "Beautiful? Any number of men and mirrors have not told me so, Sindri, and at this late point in the game I suspect it would be rather difficult to convince me otherwise. I do not care – whom do I want to be beautiful for? The labyrinth made me its own. I belong. I dream. I love. It's enough and more." Sarah got up gracefully from the couch and made her way to Sindri's basket.

* * *

Porr threw a worried glance at his friend. Jareth had sat through all of the queen's tired words without a word or even a movement, his eyes burning and his face like ice.

* * *

"Perhaps you are right, Sindri," she said over her shoulder, "I might not be the complete write-off I presented myself as, but that does not mean I'd be of use at court. There's nothing there for me that someone else could not do better, but there is nobody in the goblin kingdom who can do what I do." Sarah knew that she still had some cookies stashed away from her goblin's greedy little paws, in one of the containers on the mantle. "And by the way, you are also wrong ..."

Sindri would never know what Sarah was going to say, as the goblin queen's next words were squashed by a sudden furious hiss "What the night ... " and a strangled scream of rage. Eek was by her side in an instant and Sindri but moments later, and they saw the goblin queen holding a crystal in her hand. "Eek," Sarah called to her goblin in a voice that brook no resistance, and the little goblin jumped on her shoulder without delay. Sarah grabbed Sindri somewhat roughly by the hand and angrily crushed the innocuous globe in her hand, transporting herself and her companions to its source.

* * *

/

* * *

When Jareth and Porr saw the hand grabbing hold of the crystal, they guiltily jumped up from their chairs. This was definitely not a situation they cared to be caught eavesdropping on. Yet Jareth was completely taken aback by the development as suddenly the goblin queen and the lady Sindri stood in front of him and Porr in his library in the castle. Damn it, he had not known you could DO that, follow a crystal to the source. Of course, nobody had had part of the magic of the labyrinth but him before, so it was not an idea that seemed awfully important when you are the only one who can manipulate scrying crystals. But now he found himself on the receiving end of the goblin queen's stare, glaring down at him with unleashed fury, an impossible feat that she managed despite the fact that she was several inches shorter than he. Sarah had been angry with him before, furious even, but the woman he faced now seemed to be frozen with a cold rage that changed her into someone he barely recognized. Her heat he could deal with, but her frozen anger gave away nothing.

"I should have know it was you, goblin king," Sarah's voice cut him like a shard of ice, hard and emotionless, without a flicker of fire, but heavy with contempt. "It seems your power has corrupted you beyond the point of caring about disregarding any even remotely justifiable behavior. Pray tell, what could have made you think it was acceptable to spy on me in my home? Do you believe you have a right to control the queen without her acquiescence? Do you even care?"

Jareth looked at her with a forced smile on his face. There was nothing he could say as she was right, of course. Once he realized that the lady Sindri was visiting with the goblin queen, he could and should have dissolved the crystal. Unfortunately for him, his curiosity and his concern had been overriding his good sense, never his strongest feat, and he was not going to get away with it this time. "I can only beg your forgiveness, my lady Sarah." He put all the sincerity he could find in himself into his words and kept any trace of seduction out of his voice. "I only can say in my defense that I had no intention of spying on you. I swear I have never sent a crystal to search you out, my lady, nor have I ever had any intention to do so. Lady, I know I should not have kept listening to your conversation, but how could I have stopped myself? I was worried about you."

Porr would not let his friend take the blame on himself. "Lady Sarah, please, it was not Jareth' fault. I was ... ahm..." he stumbled over his words, but soldiered on valiantly, albeit with a violently flushed face. "I was ... mmmh... worried about the lady Sindri, and Jareth magicked the crystal into her basket to make sure that she was safe, as nobody ever knew where she was going these nights." His flush got deeper and his voice more fumbling as Sindri shot him a look full of pure venom.

Sarah turned on Porr without hesitation or mercy. "Then you are to be blamed as much as the goblin king, chancellor. Considering as I get berated for not living up to the high standards of behavior expected from the goblin queen," Porr's head practically shrunk into his shoulders, he was never going to live down his one stupid remark at the beginning of their acquaintance, "I would have expected better sense and manners from you. I do not accept either your or the goblin king's apology." Human, tired, thin, and dressed in old, shabby clothes, Sarah nonetheless could not have been taken for anything but who she was, a powerful creature of magic, furious beyond caring about consequences.

"Since manners, morals, or, night forbid, common decency are not enough to keep my life my own, against prying eyes I did not invite, I believe it is time I made you understand that I mean what I say, goblin king." Sarah stood up straight to her full height, her shoulders back and her hands furled to fists at her side. Her green eyes burning bright with anger she stared unflinchingly into his eyes, and with a murmur to Eek on her shoulder, she took the dagger the goblin handed her and cut the blade deep into her palm.

Ignoring the hiss of breath from the watchers, she let her blood run over her fingers and drip to the ground before she opened her mouth and said viciously and in a low voice: "Listen to me, goblin king, and finally believe it. You have no power over me! If you ever spy on me again, whether it be by magic or by any other means, I will sever any ties with you that I may have. I am the goblin queen, and never will I forsake my ties to the labyrinth; but you, I am not bound to by any ties of blood, obligation or loyalty."

Jareth flinched at the merciless anger in her words. "Another attempt to pry into my life, and you will not see me again, goblin king, in this life or beyond the night. I will ever labor for the labyrinth, and the goblin king will ever reap the results of all the queen learns, but never again will you set your eyes on me."

**NO, CHOSEN, DO NOT SWEAR THIS! WHAT IF YOU ARE IN NEED OF HELP? FINDING YOU HE WOULD INVOKE THE OATH. DO NOT CLOSE YOURSELF OFF IN NEED!**

After a moment's hesitation Sarah continued inexorably. "As I am sure you have heard the labyrinth's entreaties, goblin king, I will leave this exemption - were I in dire need or immediate danger that you knew of, but I could not be made aware of, I will give you leave to search me out and observe or act if necessary. Should there ever be a threat to the labyrinth I need to know, but cannot be contacted otherwise, I will give you leave to search me out. But whatever you do, goblin king, if you spy on me again, it will have been the last you've seen of me."

Her fury unabated, the goblin queen turned on her heel and gave a short nod to Sindri, then winked out of place in a heartbeat, leaving stunned silence behind.

* * *

Unfortunately, the night was not over yet. Sindri smiled coldly at Jareth and Porr. "If I may inquire, your majesty, what could have led you to suspect me of treason, I should be most obliged." The angry lady pointedly ignored the sputtering chancellor as she addressed the goblin king.

Jareth rubbed his fingers against the bridge of his nose. He had had enough already to last him a month's nights. "Night's sake, Sindri, spare me. You damn well know that I have never suspected you of treason in my life, and I never will."

"Then I cannot really see any explanation why you would follow my steps with your crystals, Jareth. What could you have been thinking? Either you distrust me, or you spy on me. Obviously talking to me did not enter your mind. And if it is not you, then it is Porr, and you helped him. There is no excuse for this either way, for either of you." Sindri gave a most formal curtsy before the king and Porr and swept out of the room without giving either of them a chance to respond.

* * *

/

* * *

Jareth and Porr shared a look of mutual dejection. Then Jareth walked over to a tray with a bottle of honey-colored brandy and glasses. He filled one glass to the rim, then held the bottle for a moment over the other glass. "How about you, Porr? Do you need an alcoholic crutch, or will you give yourself over to self-flagellation without any fortification?"

"Make it a big one, will you?" and with a crooked grin Jareth handed Porr the drink. The men sat down heavily into their leather seats and stared into their drinks glumly. "I am sorry, Jareth, I had no idea I might be dragging you into something like this."

With a short laugh, Jareth took a big gulp of the burning liquid. "You know what they say, Porr, curiosity killed the cat, and yet we live. Everything considered, we got out of this relatively unscathed. Well, at least I did." He grinned at Porr maliciously. "I believe your courtship of the lady Sindri just suffered a major setback, if not a complete reset. I, on the other hand, cannot have lost more than a few years advance in my courtship of the goblin queen. How long is it exactly since she came to the council first? A few years, right?"

Porr laughed rather against his will. "Sindri will never talk to me again. Night, I messed this up but good, Jareth. I was worried about her, and now she is angry. And the worst is, she is right. She is as honorable and trustworthy a woman as I have ever met, so why would I expect her to hide a lover? Why did I not just talk to her?"

Jareth emptied his glass with another swallow and refilled it. "Do not bother asking me for advice, Porr. You might have noticed that my counsel in these matters is not as sound as it used to be. And right now Sindri is as angry with me as she is with you, so do not believe for a moment I will stick my head out for you. Your on your own there, my friend. I rest comforted in the knowledge that by tomorrow Sindri will be angry with you alone and I will carry the weight of only Sarah's disapproval. I am afraid dealing with her is going to take all my strength, so I have nothing to spare for you."

Porr broke into a hacking cough as a mouthful of brandy went down the wrong way. "Have you taken leave of your senses, Jareth? She'll cut you to pieces with that sharp tongue of hers. And who can blame her for being so mad with us, Jareth? Night, I had no idea of the life she lives. How can she bear it? I could scarce stand listening to her. I would stay well away from the lady Sarah until she comes back to the council next time. The queen carries her grudges close and well-tended, but I fervently hope time will help, unless of course you continue on your dedicated course of angering her."

The goblin king replied rather grimly. "It is not as if I have a choice in the matter, Porr. As unpleasant as this little intermezzo has been," and he ignored Porr's mumbled "unpleasant he says," as if he hadn't heard it, "I must consider it most fortunate that we were able to hear Sarah's words. It is a grave oversight on my side, but I never gave any thought to how she would master magic, as she seemed to have such a good understanding of it. She must be able to control and use the labyrinth's magic while she insists to go gallivanting in the goblin kingdom. I know the labyrinth will keep her as save as possible, but she insists on putting herself into harm's way without a second thought. The queen must learn high magic, and I am afraid it will fall to me to teach her." He looked at Porr with a caustic smile. "Unless you know anyone else who could tutor her, of course. I would be enthusiastic about any other candidate for the position."

Porr looked at him with commiseration clear on his face, and emptied his glass. "You know what, Jareth? I am ever gladder I am not you. I do not think that you will find any volunteers for the position of the goblin queen's magic tutor. Where are the people with a burning death wish when you really need them? I wish you all the joy of the job, and please, try to keep the queen away from me. I don't even know what to do about Sindri, and the lady Sarah is a problem I'll gladly leave in your capable hands."

With these cheering words he bade the goblin king goodnight and retired to his room for a ego-crushing sleepless night of soul-searching and self-flagellation, just as Jareth had suspected.

_

* * *

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/

_

* * *

I should be grateful to you forever if could help me avoid similar unpleasant situations in the future_, he thought morosely as he pondered the excellent brandy in his glass. _It seems most unfair to be punished for something I actually did not do, for I certainly did not spy on her. She was just collateral damage, so to speak._

**I WILL NOT TAKE SIDES IN THE DISAGREEMENTS OF MY CHOSEN. BUT I DO NOT WANT YOU APART FROM MY QUEEN. IT PLEASES ME TO FIND YOU FRIENDS AND TOGETHER.**

_Our friendship was just dealt some serious setback, and we are most certainly not together, and will not be for a good while longer, I imagine. But I must thank you help limit Sarah's oath, so she can still be safe. Why did you not tell me how she lives and wears herself out? The goblin queen should not live like this. I will not have it._

**MY PROMISE BINDS ME TO SILENCE, CHOSEN, AND I MAY TELL YOU NO MORE. SHE WILL NOT LISTEN TO ME AND IN TRUTH SHE HAS TAUGHT ME MORE THAN ANY OF MY OTHER QUEENS. SHE LEARNS THE LESSONS SHE TEACHES WITH HER PAIN AND HER SPIRIT. YET MY CHOSEN MUST BE SAFE. I CANNOT BE WITHOUT EITHER OF YOU.**

Jareth smiled. _I was hoping to hear this. As I begin to teach her magic, do not give her access to all your power. My defensive magic does not need work, and the teaching would be much more pleasant, and safer for at least one of your chosen, if I did not have to fight of killing strikes all the time._

**laughter - I WILL KEEP YOU SAFE, CHOSEN. FORGIVE MY SILENCE. SHE IS SO DIFFERENT AND HER POWER TO TURN HER DREAMS INTO REALITY IS STRONG. I NEVER KNEW SHE CANNOT CONTROL ALL MAGIC.**

_How could you have known? All in the underground take the use of magic for granted, and I did not think about it any more than you. I did not think how she lived her life outside the castle either._

**I do not believe Sarah wants to talk to me, but she must begin her lessons. Let her know her about her new lessons in magic. An hour after sunrise in the goblin throne room beginning the day after tomorrow, and get her there, preferably with very little magic at her disposal. I do not believe she would follow an invitation by me.**

* * *

/

* * *

The goblin king sat in the silence of his library until the light outside turned gray and the castle began to stir. He cradled his head in his hands, his hair as wild as his eyes, as he considered Sarah's role in the goblin kingdom. When the first rays of the sun touched the horizon, he finally took to his bed.


	11. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER X**

"A worthy endeavor, lady Sarah, even though you have some distance to go yet," the lord Tiernan was leaning against the wall, ignoring the sparring Fianna as he addressed the goblin queen.  
Sarah hung her head low between her shoulders and braced her hands on her bent knees to rest the weight of her body on her legs, and panted rather un-regally. It took a moment until she could catch enough of a breath to answer him. "Thanks for your polite lie, lord Tiernan. I quite understand just how bad I am, and about the odds for me ever being more than passable. Yet I am here because I don't have much of a choice. What would the commander of the king's army be doing here at such an ungodly time? Everyone says that you are a brilliant swordsman, so I doubt there is anything for you to learn here."

"Plain curiosity, my lady Sarah," Lord Tiernan answered easily. "I overheard some of the goblin guards betting on your progress, my lady, and I could not help myself."

"They bet on me? What exactly was that bet?" Sarah asked suspiciously.

"If you want to know, you have to ask them yourself." He looked at the queen's sweat-soaked figure with an appreciative smile. "It was an excellent idea to ask female warriors to train you, my lady. Women move quite differently from men, and their strengths and weaknesses are different. And who cold teach you better than a women warrior? In a few centuries I believe you may benefit from training with me, and you might actually have some moves that could take me by surprise." He gave the goblin queen an appraising look. "It is a good idea to be able to wield a sword to protect yourself from assailants, but there is more to fighting than fighting fair."

His smile strongly reminded her of his brother all of a sudden. "Would you meet me here in the halls for an hour every evening with young Toby, lady Sarah? I think he would be willing to help me train you in the dirtier types of fighting. We could teach you how to avoid being offed in more unorthodox ways, lady Sarah, and I promise we'll do our best not to follow through. Not every killer will come at you with a blade, in full sight. You never know when fighting dirty might come in handy, my lady." He gave Nehorai an appraising look. "Since you might find yourself parted from your guard by some mischance."

"I am starting to think that fighting dirty might suit me better than all this honorable stuff," Sarah said with a calculating look. "If it is truly not an imposition, an hour before sunset then, here in the fencing halls. What say you?" Sarah looked at him with sudden suspicion. "You were not set up to this, were you?"

"Do I really look as if Jareth could press me into service, lady Sarah?" Lord Tiernan bowed his head to the queen with a wide grin. "In this very hall, my queen, just you, me, Toby, and a spot of attempted murder," and with a wink, he turned and left the fencing hall. Sarah thought that this was shaping up to be a long day already, then walked back to join the Fianna for another beating.

* * *

Sarah ambled slowly along the looming, hooded figure of Nehorai towards the throne room and glanced at his impossibly forbidding form with a grin. She could but hope that goblin king would be as taken aback by her dark shadow as everyone else who had seen him so far. When her friend had come to the goblin city under cover of darkness the night before, back from his visit in the mists, he found the goblin queen pacing her rooms restlessly, and she lost no time in filling him in on the latest developments. As did all of his kind, the shedim had strong innate magic, and when Sarah asked him, hesitantly, hopefully, if he would be willing to be at the goblin queen's side at all times and protect her against magic, as he did for the trader Eir, he agreed joyfully and without hesitation. Their friendship had become the cornerstone of his life, and in the many years they had traveled the goblin kingdom together they had become so at ease with each other that he found the prospect of being with her all the time a pleasant one. Sarah's mood picked up considerably after this, and they began to discuss the practicalities of their plan.

As no shedim could show his person in the underground without the threat of violence and death, they had come up with a guise for the queen's companion. A cloak covered every inch of him, the wide sleeves falling long over his hands, hiding his feathered claws whatever he might do with them, a deep hood covered his head and secured his face in a black, impenetrable shadow, his body and face hidden irrevocably and safely from prying eyes by the labyrinth's magic itself. The cloak was of dull camlet the color of dried blood, moving eerily slow around the body of its wearer like congealing blood. Just looking at the hooded shadow behind the queen set an observer's teeth on edge, and the inchoate sibilant hiss that occasionally emanated from him sent shivers of terror down anyone's spine yet caused no other effects.

It was Nehorai who had known the spell to conceal his voice. His kindred, accurst with voices that drove all but shedim, and the labyrinth's chosen, into a mindless killing frenzy, had long searched for ways to undo the curse of their voices, but had finally given up in despair as their magic could not sustain any of their attempts. Nehorai knew the spells his kindred had tried since the dawn of time, and if the one he had offered up might not have been useful for his kindred, it gave him the chance to converse freely with Sarah without endangering anyone else. Sarah and the labyrinth supplied the power and the binding of Nehorai's spell which deadened the sound of his voice to anyone's ears but Sarah's, and it extended to Sarah, whose words to Nehorai would be inaudible to anyone but him.

They agreed that he would be with the queen always, a threatening presence behind her at any time, silent and ominous, and Sarah was glad that she would finally have someone to discuss her observations at court with. It did not matter if Nehorai was as ignorant of court intrigue and politics as she was, he had a brilliant mind and a kind heart, and she trusted him with her life. She hoped fervently that having another, kinder mind to mull the intricacies of intrigue would help her understand the workings of the underground better than she had so far. It had been not long to dawn when they finally had taken to their beds, and Sarah was exhausted when she rose the next morning to get to the fencing halls in the castle for her lessons with the Fianna.

Sarah stretched carefully and winced as pain shot through various parts of her body.  
Today's sword lesson with Eirlys and Heulwen had been even more unpleasant than the first few lessons. The Fianna had decided that after a week of practice the queen had finally learned well enough how to hold the sword exactly the right way, as well as the basics of stance, and had begun her training proper. Sarah felt that she might have been unwise in asking for sword training, a quick death from the hand of an assailant just might be preferable to the drawn-out torture of the training. She pulled a face, which drew a low rumble of laughter from Nehorai walking next to her.

She gave him a sour look. "I am sure all this is very funny from the outside, but it certainly looses some of its charm when you have just taken a beating with the flat side of a sword on just about any spot of your body you can imagine."

Their steps echoed through the corridors of the castle, but since their voices were silent to the world as they talked to each other, Nehorai did not bother to tone down his laughter.

"You looked like a chicken about to be skewered," he said in high spirits, rather at odds with his darkly threatening appearance. "If you don't learn how to get better real fast, Sarah, the only way you will survive an attack will be because your attackers die from laughter."

Sarah looked a bit miffed. "What the night do I have a sworn guard for, Nehorai? Which would be you, in case you forgot. It's your job to get skewered to protect me, and I am sure your death will buy me enough time to run for it, don't you think?"

"Hah! I am a born-again coward, as you knew when you signed me up for this little charade, didn't you, Sarah? I have never even held a sword in my life, and I'd probably scream like a little girl if I'd ever find myself in a fight. Isn't that why we decided on such a terrifying disguise for me? Trying to reduce the likelihood anyone will ever find out that a bark is all I have? It works for Ankimo - nobody is suicidal enough to fight a Hundun. But if anyone should attack your shadow, well, the only thing I can think of is letting them hear my voice and hit them over the head from behind when they have gone crazy. Unless they kill me first, of course."

Yet coward or not, fighter or not, it wasn't as if Nehorai would not risk death trying to help her, Sarah knew. She laughed. "Forgive me, Nehorai. I am tired and hungry, and being beaten up before breakfast doesn't really improve my mood. Nor does facing the goblin king." The laughter on her face died as her features set in stubborn determination. "Speaking of the bastard, here we are," and she pushed open the doors to the goblin throne room.

* * *

As always, the goblin king looked devastatingly handsome in his narrow brown breeches and the white linen shirt, and Sarah thought angrily that he had obviously had a better night's sleep than she had. What was it with the fae? Couldn't they just look worse for wear at least occasionally? She could not know, after all, that the goblin king had only gone to his rooms just before daybreak and had stood under a cold spray of water for a long time in lieu of sleep, as he knew he would be facing an angry queen for the first lesson in magic just an hour after sunrise. A life longer than Sarah could even imagine had taught him a thing or two, and dealing with a night's lack of sleep was did not bother him. He had been folding his long limbs rather indecently over his throne, his long fingers wrapped around a mug of larak wrapped, but he rose with a flourish when Sarah entered. Etain bounded from his side to greet the goblin queen with enthusiasm, stuffing her nose into the pockets of Sarah's overdress in the search of some treat.

"I am sure you realize that punctuality is the courtesy of kings and queens, my dearest Sarah, a concept you may try to pay some attention to," Jareth addressed the queen lazily with his usual impudent smile.

"I'll let you know if I ever start giving a damn, goblin king. The goblin queen does as she likes." She looked at him with barely concealed anger while she petted Etain and fed her some treats. "As you may well imagine, the only reason I am here at all is that refusing the labyrinth at its most insistent is downright impossible. If it were, I'd let you rot for all I care."

Jareth did not seem put out in the slightest. "I take this to mean that I should not count on your presence at the diplomatic receptions in the near future, then," he said with a careless smile, which only served to infuriate Sarah further.

"Or ever," she managed to squeeze out through clenched teeth. "Far as I can tell those gatherings are a monumental waste of time and effort. I doubt I have the patience to deal with that or the diplomats themselves. Or you for that matter. However, should you want to start a war post-haste, I'd be glad to help out."

"Well observed, my dear lady Sarah, I am glad you have a firm grasp of you capabilities. Or the lack thereof, as the case may be." Jareth said utterly unperturbed as he walked up to Sarah and took to inspecting the quiet, robed figure standing behind the queen, Sed tense and ready at his side. "And who might this be? You do know that unknown and potentially dangerous people are not encouraged at my court."

"Nehorai is not unknown to me, rather the opposite," and with relish Sarah pushed on as she noticed the sudden near imperceptible freezing of the goblin king's features as he seemed to recognize the name. Her anger flared up again when she realized when he had heard it.

"He is blood-sworn to me and the labyrinth, so you need not fear treason or an attack. Yet who or what he is none of your bloody business." Sarah noticed with satisfaction that the goblin king was less than pleased with her words. "Nehorai is my sworn guard, and his prowess in sword or magic, or in ... other ... endeavors, is unparalleled."

Sarah had given up casual lying long before she ever had been chosen, but this did not mean that she did not judiciously use a lie when it was needful. And she did it right, uttering the lie with all the hallmarks of truth. "I have decided that I need an experienced mage at my side to protect me from all kinds of ... malicious magic. A goblin queen just can't be careful enough these days." She smirked at the goblin king's noticeably strained polite face with real enjoyment. "Just like Sed, only a lot more versatile." She winked at the king's goblin, who had noticeably relaxed at her words. "And no offence intended, Sed, he is a lot better-looking than a goblin, too."

Before Jareth had a chance to respond, Eek pushed open the door to the throne room and held it for Ikiaq, who carried a tray with food and a large pot of larak.

"You must be starving, lady Sarah. When Eek told me you would be here after your sword lessons I figured you'd better get a good breakfast into you immediately." With long practice Ikiaq ignored Jareth's strained silence and set the tray on the stairs before the throne as she was looking for a table. Sarah laughed as she sat down on the stairs and took a mug full of larak.

"Please, Ikiaq, don't bother with a table. You know me, I am fine sitting here. Thank you so much for the food, I don't believe I could have heard anything through the growling of my stomach." Greedily Sarah picked up one of the appetizing stuffed rolls on the tray. It tasted even better than it looked, and Sarah felt herself relax. As the food and the hot larak settled comfortably in her stomach, she looked over to Nehorai with a stricken expression on her face.

"Night, I forgot you can't eat in that cloak, Nehorai. I am so sorry. Listen, why don't you go home and eat, and ..."

Before she could go on any further, Nehorai interrupted her in a teasing tone. "Shedim are not as greedy as humans are, Sarah, and you know I never eat much. I had thought about this eventuality even if you hadn't. I ate enough to last me for the day before we left home this morning, so I will require nothing until we get back. A cup of larak would be nice, however, and the labyrinth's magic should keep my hands and face well in the shadows for such an endeavor."

Sarah got up from her stairs in a hurry and pushed her mug of larak into Nehorai's hands. As intended, the long sleeves and deep hood of his cloak obliterated all view of his clawed hands or his feathered face with shadows and darkness as he took the mug from her and drank from it deeply.

Jareth glared at the two figures standing very near to each other, enclosed in a cone of silence, with barely disguised anger. "Some sort of a silence spell, isn't it?" he inquired, his voice not giving away any of the emotions that had flitted over his face for a moment. "A very advanced spell, my dear Sarah. I did not know that you could cast such. But what is the need? Does Nehorai croak like a toad?"

Sarah turned around and gave him an sweetly insincere smile. "I find it most helpful to be able to talk to a trusted friend without anyone being able to overhear. You have more experience to draw on than I can even imagine, so I decided I better get my own source of experience to refer to when needed. And if I had the power of creating a spell of silence, I certainly would not be here now, would I? It is Nehorai's spell." Her smile got more insinuating. "And his voice is a thing of wonder. He can sing the birds from the sky and the unicorns from the forest with his songs. Or the clothes off a woman's back, should he so desire. I have never heard more beautiful."

Ikiaq looked at the queen and her quietly seething milk-son with a suppressed grin on her face. Time to get out of the way, she decided. "I will come back later and see if you need anything else," she said gently as she left the throne room.

Her departure was barely noticed by the king and the queen who were busy glaring at each other. Eek knew that Sarra was safe, and he climbed agilely onto Nehorai's shoulder, directing him to a bench under the large window - no particular attention was required from either of them in this situation, so why not take a little nap? Within minutes Sarah's friends were peacefully asleep under the window, Eek rolled up like a misshapen cat on Nehorai's lap, and the incongruously domestic scene rendered the queen's shadow much less threatening looking than he had before.

With graceful abandon Jareth joined Sarah on the stairs and refilled the mug in his hands with lapis larak. "Enough of this chit chat, my dear lady. It is time we began your training."

And so Sarah found herself listing all and sundry magic she had ever used, anything she could perform or had tried to perform, including a blow-by-blow account on how she had failed. Jareth was inquiring in exhausting depth at what pace her understanding and mastery of magic had developed since her binding, and quizzed her on her perception of magic itself. She was surprised on how much she could actually do, though judging by the goblin king's face this did not seem a feeling he shared. As she picked up the mug of larak with her left hand, she unconsciously flinched as the heat of the mug burned on her cut palm through the leather glove.

Although she gave it not a thought, Jareth noticed the shadow of pain that crossed her face, and without as much as a by-your-leave he took the mug out of Sarah's hand and with a quick movement pulled her glove off. His own deceptively slender, elegant hands in leather gloves held her hand in a firm grip without any obvious effort, despite her determined efforts to wrangle free of his hold. With a shudder Jareth noticed that the deep cut on the palm had been closed with several stitches, a barbaric and doubtlessly painful procedure Sarah must have performed herself after she had gone home the night before, as nobody with even basic training in magic would have failed to heal the cut. The wound was clean and dry however, covered thinly by a herbal salve. He looked at her grimly.

"Since you insist on acting rashly, my queen, I must insist on you learning at least the basics of healing as soon as possible. Now pay attention." Drawing on her own descriptions of her experience with healing, he carefully outlined every step necessary to perform such a minor healing spell, and finally, with an elegant gesture, he drew on his power to heal it, making sure that the labyrinth mirrored for its queen the gathering of power through their mind link. Her red, work-hardened hand looked very graceless in his, lithe and beautiful even in gloves, and Sarah tried again to pull her hand out of his firm hold. The goblin king would not let go of her hand, however.

"All fae know enough to heal such as this, but since you, by your own words, act as a healer in the goblin kingdom, you need better training than I can give you in this area. Go to the healers' halls in the city and ask for healer Hina'ea. She is 'Lo lani's sister, and not only is she an excellent healer but also a renowned teacher. She will be able to teach you all that you need to know."

Sarah's mind was whirling, as always she felt powerfully attracted to him when she touched him, but the sight of her own unlovely hand in his made her feel revolting while being turned-on at the same time, and she grasped for anger. As she tore her hand out of his, she hissed at him. "I don't have the time for such niceties, goblin king, much to my ... obvious ... regret, for I will need to leave the goblin city in a few days and make for the roads again."

Jareth looked at her with a malicious glint in his eyes. "I am ... obviously ... deeply grieved to be the one who has to tell you that you may have to change you plans, my dearest Sarah. The labyrinth agrees with me that in your present unprepared state you cannot be permitted to expose yourself to dangers untold. We are in a state of war, lady, and our subjects die within our borders, with no trace of the perpetrator. Once the labyrinth is satisfied that its queen is able to defend herself sufficiently with both sword and magic, you will be allowed to leave the safety of the goblin city again."

For a moment Sarah saw red, struck speechless with the sudden fury that threatened to choke her, yet before she could turn on the goblin king as she intended, she felt the touch of the labyrinth in her mind.

**DO NOT BE ANGRY WITH HIM, CHOSEN, FOR WHATEVER HE MAY SAY, THIS IS MY DECISION. I CANNOT LET YOU ENDANGER YOURSELF, FOR HOW CAN I GO ON SHOULD ANYTHING HAPPEN TO YOU? YOU ARE PART OF ME, AND I FEAR I MAY NOT BE ABLE TO KEEP YOU SAFE. ALL I ASK IS THAT YOU LEARN ENOUGH TO DEFEND YOURSELF FOR A FEW MOMENTS AGAINST ANY UNEXPECTED ATTACK UNTIL I CAN FULLY AID YOU. I WILL DRAIN MY POWER FROM YOU, I WILL TURN ALL ROADS BACK SO YOU CANNOT LEAVE UNTIL YOU HAVE LEARNED TO CONTROL YOUR MAGIC. WITHIN THE GOBLIN CITY YOU SHARE IN ALL MY MAGIC, AND THERE IS MUCH TO BE DONE FOR EIR SHOULD SO YOU WISH. FORGIVE ME, CHOSEN, BUT I MUST KEEP YOU SAFE EVEN AGAINST YOUR WILL.**

Sarah felt her anger drain away. The raw pain and fear in the labyrinth's mental touch, the honest remorse and unshakable determination were too powerful to hold on to her spite. She had seen enough slaughter and death on the roads to know that she would not have been able to defend herself had any of the nightmares that haunted the labyrinth chosen to attack her. She simply had never quite understood her vulnerability as she now did.

Jareth studied the queen's face with keen interest. He had felt her resist his touch when he scrutinized her hand, but that had not bothered him. Her hand had been rough in his, calloused and scarred, but beautifully formed and confident, the palm wide and strong, the fingers long and elegantly shaped, the pale oval nails short, a confident hand used to do what needed to be done. No fae lady would have been caught dead with hands like his queen. As always she had tried to evade his touch, his nearness, and as always she had reacted with an outburst of anger to repel him. He had read her undiluted fury with amusement, and then the labyrinth began to talk to her and distracted her attention. Sarah would never make a diplomat, her face much too open and too easy to read for anyone with eyes to see. Her features went from blind fury to chagrined acceptance as she listened to the touch of the labyrinth in her mind, anger, love and regret all mixed together, finally giving way to reluctant acceptance. The goblin king did not believe it would be long until his queen would try to flee his presence again, for while Sarah obviously lacked the ability to control her magic yet, she understood its underlying workings and had, by sheer dint of stubborn trial and error, already taught herself more than he would have considered possible for one not born to magic. Not that he planned tell her, nor hurry their lessons on. This was too much of an opportunity to let pass without making good use of their enforced time together.

When Sarah's attention returned to her surroundings, she felt the inscrutable eyes of the goblin king on her. She did not like the appraising smile on his lips. "It would seem, goblin king, that I am stuck with the city and, worse, with your presence for the time being. As unpleasant as this prospect is, I have lived through worse. I think." Nary a muscle twitched in the goblin king's face, but Sarah saw his eyes narrow. Good. If he thought she would meekly submit, it was time he learned better.

She refilled both their mugs from the still-steaming pot of larak. He might be an overbearing prick, but she had no doubt he would teach her magic if it killed her. The attempts of the labyrinth and the shedim may have come to naught, but she suspected the goblin king had never even pondered the possibility of failure in his life.

An indeterminate time later she wondered if her whimsical thought might have been more prophetic than she knew, for the possibility of not surviving his teaching seemed more plausible any minute. The goblin king had informed her, in a tone of deep suffering that seriously endangered her determined equanimity, that her knowledge of magic about rivaled her expertise in swordsmanship, only to then outline a remedial program that would have exhausted a whole class of students. As if this wasn't bad enough, she had found herself utterly unable to even follow his very first basic lesson, which, according to his words, was the foundation for anything to do with magic. By now she felt that her skull might split open any second.

"You are not usually this slow to understand a concept, Sarah, so please, pay attention to what we are trying to teach you here." After Jareth's initial attempts at explaining had led nowhere, the labyrinth had be drafted into helping. Jareth visualized a spell and the steps to performing it and then the labyrinth conveyed the process to Sarah. It had not worked any better than Jareth's earlier attempts, unless a roaring headache could be considered success. "Before you invoke any spell you need to gather your magic to you. Imagine a litter of curious kittens trying to wander away as you are trying to reign them in within the confines of a basket."

"You have already used more similes for gathering something up than I have ever heard in my life, goblin king, and much as I admire your mastery of language, I can't say it has helped me any," Sarah spit at him as nastily as her pounding head allowed. "Despite all your pretty words, I can't for the life of me see the likeness between gathering something in my arms and in my mind. The labyrinth can try to make me see 'til the cows come home, but it just makes no sense. All I seem to be able to conjure are headaches."

Jareth rubbed the bridge of his nose. Night, he was running out of ideas to explain something as basic as breathing. "Lady Sarah, you already know what I am asking you to do. You are gathering the magic when you perform healing magic or when you create reality from your mind's mirror. All you need to do is use it consciously. It is the first lesson of magic small children learn in the underground, when they are scarce more than babes."

"And yet another useless piece of information. Too bad I am many decades too old to profit from you sage advice, goblin king." Sarah kicked herself mentally. It was not his fault that she was to dense to learn. However, she doubted her aching brain would accept any further instructions, so she turned to face the king.

"Let's postpone this lesson until tomorrow when I can think again, goblin king. Forgive my rudeness, I am frustrated and my head hurts, and it is not a combination that promises better results in the near future."

Before she could gather her wits, the goblin king had moved close to her and looked down at her like a friend, his face rueful and his smile open and without guile. Never had he looked at her like this before. He gave her a crooked grin. "Please accept my apologies, Sarah. It may have been a very long time, but lady, you should have seen me when I received tutoring in the magic arts as a young man. I do remember how frustrating it is to be unable to understand something that seems so easy to the person who teaches you. If memory serves me right, I did not cut the most gracious figure myself. And my tutor's description of my behavior might be even less flattering."

Sarah relaxed and smiled up at him in unconscious response, her nose crinkling. Jareth gently laid his hands on both sides of her face so his fingertips touched her temples, and the pain in her head drained away with each beat of her heart. Even when the pain had gone, she lingered under his touch for another moment, for while his closeness stirred her blood as always, for once his touch was no gambit in a game, no claim of possession, no ploy of dominance, but simply gave comfort as may be offered to a friend. Finally she stepped back with a grin.

"This would have been the perfect opportunity to describe the gathering of magic in yet another metaphor for my understanding. You missed a chance, goblin king."

He looked at her with an easy grin, but she could tell he was debating with himself whether to speak. "The gathering of magic is but a sleight of hand, Sarah, if you have performed it but once, you will wonder how it could ever have eluded you. I can show you how it is done, if you will give me permission to touch your mind." Sarah paled and her face must have shown her absolute repudiation of the idea.

"I will swear a blood-oath to you, my queen, that I will no more than skim the surface of your thoughts. I would never invade your mind, if that is your fear. Believe me, lady, it would not be necessary. I would barely need to touch your thoughts at all to show you what you need to do. It would be no more intrusive than touching you face, Sarah."

Sarah thought she'd rather be damned than ever risk to giving him a glance of what went through her head when he touched her. But his words had been kind and his touch had been a comfort, and she could not muster anger, even if she wasn't convinced about his trustworthiness. So Sarah didn't rage at him but looked at him without rancor. "Don't tell me you actually thought I might agree to this, goblin king? I am not sure I could trust even myself when faced with a tempting setup like this, whatever my intentions might be at the outset. And I suspect you can resist anything but temptation, so I am not going to lead you right into it. I am sure you understand that to my greatest regret I have to turn down you ... generous offer." She smiled at him cheekily to take the sting out of her words.

"Excellent idea, my lady," Ikiaq's voice came from behind, making both her and Jareth jump. The castellaine had come in unnoticed some time earlier and had watched the proceedings with some amusement. "Any woman who will allow a man into her head is a fool who deserves all he is going to take from her. Now, don't get me wrong, lady Sarah, Jareth would never break his promise, the lad will be true to his word, but there are always stray thoughts that will come at you when you touch another mind, and strong emotions strongly increase the odds for strays. Did he mention that?" She smiled at Jareth with affection.

"But he is right, lady Sarah, it would need but a slight touch to show you what you know. Would you trust me to help you, lady? I am sworn to the labyrinth and its chosen, and should some unwarranted thought stray into my mind, it will be as if it never happened."

As Ikiaq was talking, Sarah looked at the castellaine and thought that she would trust the woman with her life. And had she no done so already when the trader Eir had followed the castellaine's advice? Ikiaq was older even than Jareth, and Sarah could not imagine that any fantasies or desires of the flesh would shock or dismay her, and she knew that Ikiaq would keep her secrets safe.

"Yes, lady Ikiaq, I know I need help, and I would be glad of your guidance. I seem to be so utterly unable to grasp the concept of gathering in the magic, and how will I ever control my magic without this? But let's do it right now before I loose my nerve."

Ikiaq's mental touch was as deft as her hands, and the light brush of her thoughts inexplicably reminded Sarah of her mother. The castellaine guided her mind very much like a mother might guide a child's hands during an intricate chore, and she pulled the queen's thoughts along with her own, giving an inside view of how to gather magic. A few minutes later Sarah wondered what the heck had been her problem, the difference from what she always did when she wielded magic and what Jareth had asked her to do was really but a hair's breadth. She had to admit that the goblin king's imaginative descriptions of gathering magic to yourself had been rather to the point. Not that she was planning to tell him. Still, the experience had not been one she felt the need to relive in the near future. Or ever.

She shook her head repeatedly and vigorously. "Night, that felt like ants crawling around on the inside of my skull." She shuddered and hit the side of her head with the palm of her hand. "And I believe not all of them have left yet."

Jareth's heartless laughter interrupted her musings. "What a most unpleasant image, my dearest Sarah. But do not worry, I hear there are not lasting effects ... for most people. Let us hope you are not among the unlucky few that are haunted by strange inexplicable thoughts and sensations as the result of a mind touch." His voice grew lower and more ominous. "There are those who slowly loose hold of their sanity in the months and years after their mind has been touched, their wits scattered as their actions become more erratic and inexplicable." His was a very creditable voice of doom, belied only by his laughing eyes.

"I'm very glad, goblin king, that you feel comfortable enough with me to share difficulties of your life, even though I already realized that you are barking mad," she addressed him with slow, well-enunciated words, her face as serious and concerned as she could make it, although her effort was hampered by the wide grin that was determined to spread over her face.

The goblin king laughed. "Much as I would like to spend the rest of the day trading insults with you, my dearest Sarah, the duties of a king cannot be postponed for such pleasant trifles," he said with what sounded like real regret in his voice. "I am already late for a meeting with the clerk of the privy council, and even though she cannot really admonish her liege for being late, she has a surprisingly expressive face. I really have to go see her before her face tells me things I'd rather not hear."

Sarah smiled at him apologetically. "I am sorry I have wasted your morning, goblin king. Blame everything on me. I hope I will be more receptive tomorrow, and perhaps we can keep it to an hour if I am actually capable of doing what you ask me."

Ikiaq looked at her quizzically. "It really hasn't been much more than an hour since I brought you breakfast, lady Sarah. Jareth's schedule is much too full to spend the whole morning on your lessons, as important as they are. I know he is tweaking his schedule so he will have more time to teach you as soon as possible, but for today, it is still early in the morning."

The goblin king's voice cut through her surprise. "And while I am sure that you are dying to know how, my dear lady, I doubt you will be ready to re-order time in the foreseeable future. However, we will continue our lessons tomorrow morning at the same time, and I will do my best to beat the odds to get you closer to the day that your magic might allow you to control time. We will discuss every day's lesson over breakfast, which you will undoubtedly need after your weapons training with the Fianna. However long our training may take, though, I can promise you, your lessons in magic will never take out more than an hour out of your morning. And please remember, Sarah, you need to see the healer Hina'ea in the healers' halls for lessons." He executed a flawless bow before the two women. "I bid you a good day, my dears," and the goblin king left the throne room with his usual flourish.

Nehorai and Eek came up to the surprised looking goblin queen, who could not suppress a curse. "Night, it's still early in the morning? This day is dragging on, and he tells me it has barely started? I had such high hopes that I could go to bed soon," Sarah groaned. "Well, it cannot be helped. Thank you for the breakfast, Ikiaq, you saved my life. I suspect I will rely on you provisioning again tomorrow and all the foreseeable days in the future." Sarah bent down and lifted Eek up to her shoulder. "Can you direct us to the healer's hall, lady Ikiaq?"

* * *

Over the next few weeks and months Sarah's days began to settle into their own exhausting rhythm. Every morning she went to the weapons training with Heulwen and Eirlys, and as often as not they were joined by some of the fighters of the Carmarthen fian, young Wyn foremost of them. To Sarah's pleased surprise Toby began to show up for the sunrise sessions, and while Sarah quickly realized it was Heulwen who drew him, it did not diminish her pleasure. She did not presume to have mastered anything, yet neither was she a complete innocent about defending herself any more. Her body had slowly adapted to the hard exercise, and while she still got bruised in every session, her body did not scream in protest with every movement any more, and her stamina and speed had increased noticeably.

After a breakfast spent in surprisingly pleasurable bickering with the goblin king in the throne room, an indeterminate amount of time passed for her training in magic, more challenging and more frustrating even than sword fighting. This might have had to do with the fact that the goblin king did not believe in following cumbersome restrictions like rules and limitations when he taught the queen. Once Sarah had grasped the idea of concentrating magic before she cast a spell, he made her use magic constantly, mostly by having her defend herself against some spell he carelessly threw at her, and inviting her to do the same to him. This rather active training was interrupted by very welcome periods of storytelling while they rested for a mug of larak, when he told her of the various uses and applications of magic by the kindreds of the underground and the many spells that had been used by mages in the history of the underground. Contrary to her unconscious expectations, spells were but mnemonic devices, simple shortcuts to avoid the re-invention of the wheel. A powerful mage could create countless spells in near limitless variations to bring about a desired result. It was however a lot more efficient to not have to come up with a new spell every time a certain outcome was desired, so all mages had a repertoire that was effectively a shorthand for getting the job done. Although Sarah noticed that the goblin king rarely repeated himself, he either did not need mental crutches or he was showing off. She did not trust the goblin king nor did she feel that his intentions were something she might be able to fathom, yet she could not help being impressed by his knowledge and his ability as a teacher. Much to her chagrin the goblin queen found that not only did her bone-deep desire not lessen upon closer acquaintance but she even liked the king more and more, although she would not allow herself to let her guard down in his presence for she understood well that he was a master of manipulation and she was not match for him.

After her lessons in the castle, never longer than an hour however long she had been there, she went on to the healer's halls, where Hina'ea had proved any bit as good a healer as the goblin king had claimed. Hina'ea was a soothing summer breeze to 'Lo lani's passionate storm, her hair the color of the clouds in a perfect summer sky, glowing white against her silver skin, but like her sister her locks were in constant restless movement around her head, buffed by the invisible wind that seemed to accompany all odei. Hina'ea wore a simple blue shift with a loose pale green overdress like all healers, and when Sarah had mentioned with admiration the wind-driven bits of cloth that created 'Lo lani seductive clothes, the odei healer told her that it was the pride of her kindred to create the most complex patterns of multiple bits of material to clothe themselves imaginatively. The healer halls were always busy, and Sarah suspected that the hour she spent every day with the healer would not have been forthcoming had she not been the queen, as the apprentices never got to spend so much time with one of the best healers. Yet Sarah did not feel guilty, as everything she learned would benefit the denizens of the goblin kingdom as much as herself. Her time with Hina'ea was spent in the animated conversation of equals who are knowledgeable about different aspects of a topic and they taught each other the practical application of these topics. Hina'ea was as interested in Sarah's methods of treating patients without magic as Sarah was in Hina'ea's magical regiment. Sarah thought with wry amusement that it did not make much of a difference that her specialty had been veterinary medicine, as the patients in the underground rarely were human anyways.

In the late afternoon Sarah returned to the fencing halls to work on her sword exercises, until it was time to meet Tiernan and Toby for her special training, which in her mind she had taken to dub the murder class. It was rather exhilarating, for there were no rules nor limitations to what was allowed. The room had been thoroughly spelled to protect all three of them from real damage if not pain, and while the punishment part seemed to be unfairly tilted towards her, at least in her own opinion, Sarah relished the ability to try out the more outrageous ideas that crossed her mind. While Tiernan was going about teaching her to survive a sneaky attack in a very organized and efficient way, Toby seemed to be as happily bloodthirsty as she was. Under the watchful and oftentimes surprised eye of the experienced fighter the young fae lord and the goblin queen engaged in imaginative and vicious attacks on each other, frequently resulting in one of them down for the count, which taught each of them valuable lessons in the process. Sarah learned that trying to knee a man in the groin was pointless and supremely painful if the male in question was seven inches taller and armored, while Toby found out that trying to grab a woman from behind and lifting her off the ground left him open to the full strength of her upper body concentrated in her elbow on the side of his head. While Tiernan's offerings in murderous intent were less flashy, they also tended to be more effective, not to mention less painful for him. And so, with time and dedicated teachers, Sarah learned to deal with unexpected attacks from unexpected weapons. And as the goblin queen learned more about the difficulties of surviving, she began to worry what she would do if anyone truly wanted to kill her.

Sarah conscientiously joined the war council whenever she found the time and even graced several banquets and balls in the castle with her presence, a gesture of goodwill that surprised and delighted the goblin king who had been prepared for the queen to chafe under the restrictions placed on her. Yet Sarah was not given to dwell on what could not be changed, but tried to make the best of any situation she found herself in. And despite her exceedingly full schedule she still found hours every day to do what she liked, and to her astonishment she realized that she enjoyed her time in the goblin city.

The dwarf trader Eir and her Hundun companion had begun to ply their trade as purveyors of whatever goods would sell on the daily markets, Eir's breads and cakes much in demand, and her good-natured haggling and gossiping with all who would talk to her, yielded tidbits of information that often enough had not yet reached the ears of the goblin king or the war council. Luckily, since the first harvest had been excellent and the second was shaping up to be even better, the specter of famine had been averted, and with the sinking prices of food, the general health had improved. Yet people still got into fights, children still fell off trees or walls, and accidents still happened, and so Eir did brisk business as a healer for the poor in the city.

Toby had taken it on himself to show the goblin queen and her ever-present cloaked shadow around the city she purportedly did not know, and took her to places she had never seen even as the dwarf trader, from a rich baron's walled gardens of unearthly beauty to a tiny dusty city square with a public fountain which was the center of life for the neighborhood at the edge of the hedge maze. He introduced Sarah and her shadow to his many friends in high and low places, whom he seemed to have acquired without distinction of rank or place. It did not take Sarah long to realize that while the loyalty of the blood-sworn to her was absolute and unquestioned, it was his friendship that made people accept her fully without any prejudice that they might have harbored against the human goblin queen before. Toby's admiration and friendship gave her a place in the goblin city that it might have otherwise have taken her hundreds of years to earn. And on top of this, she enjoyed his company as much as that of the people he introduced her to.

And when the goblin queen and her shadow went home in the evening to become just themselves again, free of all glamour or pretense and animatedly discussing the events of the day, the goblins thronged in their quarters and told them stories of all that happened in the goblin kingdom. They would bring their queen ugly presents and listen enraptured to the songs Sarah and Nehorai sang for them, and she found that she could be as happy in the goblin city as she had been on the road.

Sarah sat in the window in one of the reception rooms in the tower, her legs dangling out over the ledge, looking pensively at the sun, still low over the horizon. "You promised you would show me how to re-order time, goblin king. I know I am not a brilliant mage, but it has been a while since you caught me unawares with one of your sneaky attacks. I'll likely never be as good as you, but then you have the advantage of more great years than I can count, and that chasm will never close. I have this suspicion that if I wait until I am good enough in your estimation, you'll never teach me. I have learned enough magic to leave the court, goblin king, and I long to travel the kingdom again." Sarah knew she sounded peevish, but the goblin king's reluctance to teach her time magic grated on her nerves. "You can of course keep refusing me, but that would just force me to try on my own."

"You will under no circumstances do that, my lady Sarah," and the goblin king's voice suddenly sounded wary. Sarah grinned but did not turn her head. It made her dizzy to look towards him, his legs above her head as he sat on the outside of the tower wall at a right angle to her. He had taught her to change the orientation of gravity as ever she needed, and some of her lessons had involved trying to get away from him on any surface that offered itself. Once she had mastered the knack, she enjoyed the ability to walk upside down a wall when she needed to. Suddenly with a sudden tumble of limbs the goblin king sat next to her on the ledge, having effortlessly turned his body in space so he came to rest next to her.

"There are no grimoires or mages who can teach you about time magic, Sarah, as only with the labyrinth's power is it possible to re-order time. Nobody but the labyrinth's chosen have ever manipulated time, and it is a dangerous endeavor. Promise me you will not play with forces beyond your ability to control, my lady."

Sarah smiled up at him sweetly. "If you want to be sure that I don't do anything rash, goblin king, you might want to convince me that there is no need. I honestly cannot see why I would ever need to re-order time, but that does not mean I do not want to learn how to do it. And don't pretend you don't know what I am talking about, for are you not the same way, goblin king? I am willing to promise you that I shall not use time magic unless in the direst need, a need I cannot even fathom, but only if you agree to teach me."

Jareth slowly and thoroughly considered her with narrowed eyes. The months of close contact with Sarah and their spirited exchanges had taught him much about her, but he realized with a start that he had not considered the obvious corollary, that he had been studied just as closely. He really should know better than to underestimate the queen, he scolded himself, as she was as devious and brilliant as any fae he had ever known if in a different way.

"Would you promise to use time magic only under my aegis, Sarah, until you are more proficient?" he asked in his silkiest tone.

"That has got to be the dumbest condition I have ever heard of," Sarah exclaimed with disgust clearly written on her face. "I can't even imagine why I'd ever want to re-order time, after all I lack the natural sadism of some people who enjoy torturing runners. But if I ever need to mess with the flow of time I very much doubt it will be in your presence, goblin king. So the answer is an unequivocal no. But I will leave court soon, and if you have not taught me how to control time I will find out on my own."

"Well, let us talk about time magic when you have shown me how well you can deal with shape-shifting," and in a flurry of movement and golden feathers a large golden-white night owl sat on the ledge next to her, half as big again as they usually were, its head reached to over her shoulder, then he turned back to his usual arrogant self in a moment.

"If you actually think I'll begin a lesson in shape-shifting on a window sill in a tower, some 50 yards over a cobblestone yard, think again." Sarah said with determination. "I want a lot of soft grass around me, and no witnesses at all."

* * *

With a laugh Jareth put his arms around her, and before she could protest they stood on a patch of soft grass in the middle of the hedge maze, a slender birch shading the early morning sun. Jareth walked over to the tree and leaned his back against the trunk. "Just you, me and the labyrinth. Not even your faithful shadow, as always deeply asleep in the alcove with your goblin. What less could you want, dearest lady?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, goblin king?" Jareth just grinned. "What I'd really like to know, goblin king, what is the point of shape-shifting to a bird is when you can just appear wherever you want by magic? Why bother flying?"

"I wished it was that easy, my dear Sarah," and for a moment Jareth looked decidedly murderous. "If I could just transport myself through the goblin kingdom, white Babdh and her blood-beaked crows would not be killing on our lands, lady." His nasty smile left little doubt of his plans for Babdh. "We can move ourselves to another place by magic, but only within a very short range, and only to a place we know so well that we can create the perfect image of it in our mind. If you cannot picture a place exactly as it is, you will go nowhere.  
And the range is pitifully short, from the castle I can appear anywhere within the maze, but no further out." He grinned maliciously. "It is enough to scare the night out of unwary runners, but unfortunately not enough to serve any real purpose."

He shook his head in regret. "So if you ever need to move quickly, my lady Sarah, a bird it must be." He carefully outlined the steps necessary for the transformation and explained all the things she'd need to keep in mind. When he was finished he looked at her expectantly.

"Can I choose what bird I will be, or how does that happen?" the goblin queen inquired.

"You may choose, of course. Who would want to be a vulture? Just imagine the embarrassment to a highborn noble if they'd find themselves in such plumage."

"That explains it," Sarah muttered under her breath, but not low enough for the goblin king's sharp ears. His eyebrows went up inquiringly. "Hawks and falcons, eagles and owls - just what you'd expect from a bunch of vain fae."

"Far be it from me to dictate your choice, my dear Sarah, but let me inform you that the life span of a humming bird or a nightingale can be astoundingly short in the wild. Life in flight is so much more enjoyable if you don't have to constantly scan the sky for predators that might want to make a meal of you. Not to forget that these pretty small birds will not really increase your traveling speed as much as you could wish for."

This time Sarah's grumbles were too low even for the goblin king to hear, but she set out to copy Jareth's instructions as best she could. Shape shifting was tricky business, and she had a few failed starts, her shape blurring and dissolving only to reinstate in her own form. She swore under her breath. Just as well that it was the labyrinth that concealed her identity as Eir, she knew she would never have been able to perform the necessary magic before the goblin king's extensive tutoring.

Jareth watched her with fascinated interest. Her face tight with concentration, she seemed to try to force the transformation by sheer will. Humans had no patience, and Sarah was certainly a prime example. On the other hand, her impatience might have something to do with speed that she picked up on all he heaped on her. In just a few month his queen had acquired a control of magic that took the long-lived kindreds of the underground as many years. While she was clearly taken by his flamboyant use of magic, the glamour and the strange beauty he wove without effort, and delighted in all he showed her, the poetry of her own mind manifested itself only in her dreams become reality in the labyrinth. Sarah had the makings of an excellent mage, but her interest in most of what he taught her was strongly pragmatic, and he was delighted how she would invariably find a practical use for any magicks he taught her. Fae were given to value the beauty and intricacy of a spell as much as its function. He grinned. Sarah preferred blunt efficiency, and beauty be damned, and he knew she took some perverse pride in being as different from the fae as she could.

As he waited patiently for her to master the transformation, he imagined she would change to a raven or a crow. Whatever she claimed, Sarah was a predator as much as he was, proud, wild, and cruel when necessary, and much too smart to choose a silly songbird just to be contrary. But she would clearly not choose a more traditional bird of prey. His eyes lit up as the air around the queen dissolved in a flutter of movement and white and grey feathers, and when the movement died, a dazed-looking seagull sat on the grass, clearly unaccustomed to wings, as she fell over as soon as she stretched them out. Jareth laughed out loud as he approached the bird and went into a crouch before it.

"The most common bird you could think of, my dear, isn't it? Not exactly a meek song-bird, though. Gulls can be quite nasty, as anyone can vouch who ever came between them and their intended dinner. Smart, vicious and true acrobats of the air. And surprisingly beautiful as well. An excellent choice," his attempt at touching the bird was quickly curtailed as the large gull hacked at his hand with her sharp long beak. He got up with a grin. "A perfect choice, my lady, the bird is your spitting image indeed. You may want to give the wings a try, just in case you made some mistake and they are just for decoration."

The seagull gave him a pointed glare and flapped with her wings rather ineffectually. She seemed to get riled that it did not get her airborne.

"Do not think about it, Sarah, let your body do what it must. Your mind has no knowledge of flying, so do not attempt to use it. You never think about how to walk, but simply do it to get where you want, so let this body do the work. Do you see the peaches on the tree over there?" and Jareth pointed to the crown of a peach tree visible at some distance. "Get a peach, my lady, and bring it back to me."

The gull gave him a distinctly disgusted glare and with powerful beating wings she threw herself into the air and gained height quickly. For a moment, uncertainty seemed to overcome her and her flight became erratic, but she caught herself quickly and flew towards the peach tree with strong and steady wing beats, diving down to tear a peach of a high branch. The fruit was not cooperative and refused to break off easily, and from the distance Jareth could see the gull struggle against the branch, a flurry of feathers and leaves seemingly still in the air until the peach broke off and the gull flew up again and turned back. When she was over the clearing again, she pulled her wings close to her body and hurtled her body towards the goblin king. Jareth stood ready, should she be unable to catch her fall, but at the last moment Sarah spread her wings and caught her wild dive but a hand span over the king's head, and with a triumphant kwee-kwee-kwee she dropped the peach and flew up to a lower branch of the birch tree, where she landed utterly ungraciously and was vainly trying to get a hold.

Jareth caught the peach with quicksilver grace a hair's width over his face, and turned to the struggling bird just in time to see it change back to its human form. Sarah found herself on a thin branch over two yards above the ground, a branch much too small to bear the weight of a woman, and it promptly broke. With a startled squeak the goblin queen fell, and the hard landing knocked the air out of her, although a lightning quick spell of the goblin king had made sure that she was not truly hurt. After all, it was a teacher's responsibility to make sure their ward did not come to harm under their safekeeping. Jareth walked over, carelessly throwing the peach in the air and finally taking a bite out of it before he looked down at her with slanted head.

"Chivalry is obviously dead," Sarah hissed at him when she finally had caught her breath and stood up slowly, making sure nothing was broken even though everything felt like it.

The goblin king grinned down at her with undisguised mirth in his face. "You were planning to splatter me with the peach, my lady," he pointed out unrepentantly. "You cannot have expected me to go searching for my deeply-buried better impulses to save you, after such an uncalled-for attack. And you must admit, the only thing that sustained any damage was your pride."

"Yeah, but I missed and you did not, so I owe you another successful attack," she told him threateningly. "Wasn't I supposed to turn into a bird mid-fall? You know, instincts kicking in and all that?"

Jareth laughed out loud. "You might want to spend a little more time as a gull before you can hope for instincts, my dearest Sarah. I doubt that five minutes can do it. And you should have thought about your choice of bird, should you not? Gulls do not possess the kind of feet that you need for trees. Webbed feet are not really meant to hold on to twigs."

He turned teacher in a heart beat. "I am sure you by now that your physical aspect is open to change, my lady. I doubt you will be spending much time with other gulls, and your most common landing spot will be trees, so let us go about changing your feet, Sarah. Now, change back to your gull shape, lady, and do not peck at me when I touch you," and under his expectant glance Sarah changed back to a gull, She was proud to notice that she had managed on the first attempt this time. The goblin king picked the shaking gull up and calmed the agitated bird with a gentle voice. He held her body gently in a firm hold, and with a controlled gesture of his hand over the gull's webbed feet they changed into the strong feet of a raptor, with three toes facing forwards and a powerful one pointing in the opposite direction. Before he could move his hand away, Sarah had clamped her toes around his fingers, and when he gently opened the hand that held the gull quiet, she managed to get herself into the upright, perched on his hand. Jareth smiled at the preening bird. "Should I consider starting a new fashion, my dear Sarah, what do you think? Forget falconry, I do not believe anyone has ever managed to train a sea gull to their hand."

With an indignant craw Sarah flew up and changed back to her human shape, not the smartest maneuver as she found herself back in her body encircled in the arms of the goblin king. Fortunately for her, or so she firmly told herself, Jareth was as surprised as she was by the unexpected development, and for once her reaction was faster than his. She managed to wiggle out of his embrace before he had a chance to tighten it. She turned away from him to hide his burning face and to collect herself before she called over her shoulder with the cheekiest grin she could muster: "How about a race to back to the castle, goblin king? Let us see who'll win in a competition of wings," and she managed to turn herself back to a gull - nice feet these were, she had to admit - and flew as fast as she could towards the castle beyond the goblin city. As she had expected, it did not take long to hear the flapping of powerful wings come up behind her, and before long the beautiful night owl overtook her. The close-up view of the silver-brown owl took her breath away, he was as beautiful in his bird-shape as in his normal body.

Since Sarah was not too sure which window in which tower they were actually going for, she did not try to get ahead but rather started to perform foolhardy maneuvers around the straight-flying owl, diving around it and making as much of a nuisance of herself as she dared, without actually risking a collision. When the goblin king suddenly pulled his wings close and dived into a window, Sarah just about managed to follow him, clearing the window frame with barely an inch to spare.

"I am sure you would have liked seeing me plastered against the wall, wouldn't you?"  
she said somewhat sourly when she had changed back.

Jareth smiled at her in the most infuriating way. "It might have taught you not to perform aerial acrobatics before you are ready, my lady. Although, you have taken to flying extremely well, and your choice was an excellent one. Gulls are powerful birds, dangerous yet unobtrusive. You will travel fast and safe."

Sarah smiled back at him, the goblin king was not given to easy praise, and she valued his words, especially when she knew that she had behaved rashly. "So am I ready now for time magic, goblin king?" She looked at him pleadingly, and Jareth had to stifle a grin. Sarah's insatiable hunger for knowledge was a most seductive trait, as too many of the fae let the knowledge of their long lives dull their desires and their eagerness even at a young age, protecting their lives at the cost of all else. Sarah had been middle-aged in her human life, facing the end of all that she was, but given a second chance on future she lived to the fullest, and her hunger far outweighed any fears she might have. A creature who'd given himself to wild magic and all its dangers, Jareth could understand with all his being.

"Let us talk about this another time, Sarah? Whatever else, time magic cannot be taught in a short hour. But I promise you this, my queen: I will teach you to control time, and if not tomorrow, it will be soon, even for your impatient nature. And now, wake your shadow and be gone. I have work to do, and I cannot laze about as my queen does. So shoo."

With a laugh Sarah ran over to the alcove and grabbed Nehorai's sleeve. He was on his feet in a heartbeat, a loudly cursing Eek at his feet. "We're leaving, my friends, as we are not wanted here any longer," she declaimed theatrically with a deep curtsy to the goblin king, and with her entourage in tow she was out of the room in a moment, only to stick her head back in. "I will hold you to your promise, goblin king, as I am sure you know. Thank you."

* * *

When Jareth left the meeting room he was well neigh sure that his polite smile was frozen indelibly to his face. Today's meeting with his council of ministers had dragged on long after his last spark of interest had died, not that it had been terribly strong in the first place. He attended the meetings as a king had to, and if the information he learned was mind-numbingly dull, Jareth knew he would ignore it at his peril. In his younger years he had sometimes left the duties in the capable hands of his clerks and ministers, since most of the time he followed their advice anyway, but he had learned to his regret that they each of them were too closely identified with their own area of expertise to be able to see it in perspective. After spending more time resolving problems that had come to pass because none of his ministers had been able to look beyond their own responsibilities, he resigned himself to join the meetings and save himself future trouble. At least none of them needed supervision in what they did - he was blessed with capable and smart ministers who were mostly excellent at what they were doing, and Jareth thought wryly that at least he rarely needed to do anything more than keep an eye on them and give them a push in the right direction to keep things running smoothly. Yet even immortal life seemed to short to have to deal with a whole morning of this, and another one coming up in a sennight. He groaned and put the thought out of his mind. Enough time to face this when he could no longer ignore it. And he set out to the kitchens in search of some sustenance.

As always the kitchen was bustling with activity, and Jareth wove his way to Bergljot, the dwarf pastry chef, to beg a cup of larak and some cakes from her.

The smiling woman handed him a mug of hot larak. "You don't want any cakes from me, my lord," she said with a nod to the table in the corner. "I know you like Eir's pastries, and they just came out of the oven."

Jareth bowed to her with an easy smile and walked over the grey-haired dwarf woman who was busy braiding three long strands of sweet yeast dough to a wreath.  
Eir noticed his approach and looked up with a smile on her face, then turned back to the yeast cake to spread egg mixture over the surface, and finally sprinkled slivered nuts on top. "Admit it, goblin king, you have found yourself another innocent maiden to toy with and break her heart, as you did mine," she addressed him, trying hard to fashion her features into a tragic expression, concentrated on her work. "What else could be the reason that you have so cruelly deserted me for so long? You have not come to talk to me for two weeks now."

"Never would I look at another woman but you, Eir," Jareth grabbed a piece of pastry from a hot tray on a ledge behind the woman, but quickly threw it back and forth from one hand to the other as to not burn his hands. "Who could possibly hold my attention as you do, my dear? Even if you are neither innocent nor a maiden. And I am not sure that you have a heart."

"I thought that is how you like your women, goblin king?" she inquired with an salacious grin.

"You have been listening to what people say about me, my dear Eir, haven't you? Just because everyone claims something does not make it true, as a woman of your experience ought to know. And for my long absences, beloved, my time is not my own, as well you know. Last week I had to fend of barely veiled threats from the delegation from Matagamon instead of coming down here to bother you. Believe me, Eir, there is no man alive who would not prefer your company. Though come to think of it, you never tell me the sweet nothings that most women vying for my attention offer up for my edification. Instead you tell me gossip from the street s. Yours is a strange courtship, Eir," and with a quick movement of his hand his mug refilled with larak.

"If you don't like my love offerings, goblin king, I will not bother telling you anything I hear in the streets no more," and with her hands on her hips Eir regarded the goblin king with mock anger on her face.

"Ah, my sweetest lady, I was not offering any criticism of your courtship but an observation. You may rest assured that your sweet voice finds much more favor with me than any of those shameless, shapely, willing, desirable .. where was I? ...oh yes, inconsequential women," he looked at her with a wide-eyed grin of miserably-faked innocence.

"Far be it from me to disappoint your expectations, goblin king," and the dwarf trader walked over to a counter and poured herself a mug of larak before she returned and leaned against the work-bench. "I don't know what is going on in the city in the last two months or so, goblin king, for the harvest was good and food is plentiful again, yet people are dying all over the city."

Jareth sat down heavily on the work bench and looked grimly into his mug. "The healers tell me it is a new strange disease, Eir, but they do not yet know what causes it. All victims die of suffocation, their lungs full of phlegm, and no rhyme nor reason to who may be struck with the illness."

Sarah's face was shadowed by disquiet. She had been a veterinarian in the above, and she had observed that true diseases in the underground followed the same rules of epidemiology as in the above, unless magic was involved, and she knew without a doubt that whatever killed the people in town was not a disease, as death struck haphazardly and without logic. But how could she tell the goblin king without giving herself away? "I don't know your healers, goblin king, but there is more to this. You understand as well as I do that you and the healers only know of those who died in the better parts of town." Jareth inclined his head in agreement.

"There are many more dead in the poorer parts of the goblin city, too poor for their deaths to be noticed by anyone, as their families bury them and grieve without notice. Goblin king, I do not care what your healers say, I have been a healer of the animals and the poor for a very long time, and thanks to your largesse I have been able to help those in need without asking for payment. But you know that even the poorest will give all they have to help their kin without hesitation, and yet never have I been called to one who is sick and was found dead the next day. This ... disease ... tears people from life without a warning, without sickness before." Eir looked at him with worry writ large on her face. "I truly do not know what is happening in the city, goblin king, but I believe magic is killing your subjects. Many of them, and many of them children."

Jareth swore extensively. "I did not know this, Eir. I will make sure that the healers will spread out into all parts of the goblin city and learn all there is." He looked at the worried, lined face of the no-longer-young dwarf trader with gratitude. "What will I do when you leave the goblin city again, Eir?" and his voice mirrored his worries. "You tell me things my councilors do not know, nor do I. Your help is invaluable, lady, and I hope you understand that I owe you a debt that cannot be repaid."

With a deep blush creeping up her face, Eir tried to make light of the goblin king's heartfelt gratitude. "You need to sweet-talk more common women, goblin king. You don't know what you are missing out by restricting yourself to the ladies of the court. And I am not only talking about the knowledge you might gain," she added with a smirk.

"I believe I need to follow your advice, my lady Eir," Jareth looked her over from head to toe with a grin. "Although I doubt that many as are sharp-eyed as you are. You know, I had not thought of it before, but you seem to be in the kitchens much more often than you used to be. Can't bear to be parted from me?"

"You are vain as a peacock, goblin king. I am not wasting my time in the goblin city for you, but for my true love, Lazarus. When we came into town the last time, he had a bad case of stringhalt, and it is still not completely healed. Yet I can see the open road beckoning me and Ankimo soon again, for it will not be much longer until Lazarus can pull our cart again. Luckily he did not fall ill before the first harvest. I have been cooped up here so long, I'd like to leave the city before the second harvest comes in." Her face became wistful.

"What is it with the women around me? They all seem to be longing for the road when they should be longing for me," Jareth informed her dryly.

"That's the price you pay for surrounding yourself with smart women." Eir looked at him with unadulterated curiosity in her face. "Don't you long to wander sometimes, goblin king? They say before you came to power in the kingdom, you traveled widely through the underground, footloose and never making a home anywhere. Now you spend most of you time here in the heart of the goblin kingdom, gone only short times occasionally, when none know where you are. Do you ever see the beauty of your kingdom any more, my lord?"

Eir was sure he would not answer when, after a long silence, he said softly: "I am the king, Eir, and my life is not my own any more. I knew this when I became the goblin king, and I knowingly traded the freedom of the roads for the restrictions of a ruler. I know the goblin kingdom and its beauty, and if I don't spend as much time following my own desires as I might like to, I still am not as entrapped as you may think." Jareth thought that the time magic he had been teaching the goblin queen in the last month made life bearable even for the most put-upon monarch, which he readily admitted was not him most of the times. In the early years of his reign he had spend a very considerable amount of work and time on surrounding himself with capable stewards, and it had paid out in the long run. Now, with a silent war fought within and without the goblin kingdom and the pressures on him mounting relentlessly, when his duties became too pressing and he longed for beauty and respite, he had often enough moved outside time to steal a few hours in the countryside, or for flying over the kingdom, at peace with the wind, without demands or pressures. He was not as restricted as his subjects might think.

"And what is it that keeps drawing you out to the road, Eir? Do you so hate live in the goblin city?" he inquired with equal directness.

"No, against all my expectations I enjoy my life here, goblin king," the older woman gave him an undecipherable look. "I have friends, and I find that much of what I am good at I can do here as much as anywhere else. I am a pretty good healer, and there are as many suffering creatures here as in the countryside. I meet people and I talk with even more than I do when I am on the road, as you well know. I cannot understand how people here in the goblin city can possibly know of any of the things they so avidly gossip about, but you must admit that much of what I told you of the talk in the streets has shown itself to be correct. How does a pickpocket in the lower city, a gnome who has never left the city gates in his life, know about foreign armor found along the river marshes of the Naryn in Quaraghandy, with fields of bones bleaching on the river banks? And yet they do. The city knows and cares about the demesne, and I never noticed this before. And I have learned that there is much more beauty here in the city than I had ever expected." She went silent, deep in thought for a moment. "I believe I will enjoy coming back to the city and spend some weeks or months here, whenever I come back from my travels, but I could not choose a life like you did. I need time alone with my thoughts and dreams, and when I sit on the coachman's seat going from one place to another with my caravan, I can hear myself think. I need to feel the hot wind from the Plain of Ashes on my face to know I am really there, and only when the cold air in the Simien mountains bites into my body do I truly understand it. How can you feel all of the goblin kingdom is yours when you cannot be there sometimes, to feel its reality on your skin?" Eir looked up at the goblin king with a serene face, the lines around her eyes crinkling in a smile. "If I spend too much time here in the city I forget myself, goblin king, and I change in ways I don't understand or like. So many people, so many desires, and everyone wants something of you. I cannot bear it too long, for it makes me feel like a wild animal caged. The road sets me free and gives me the strength to be me."

Jareth looked at her pensively, not surprised by the dwarf trader's thoughtful words. For all her banter and good-natured affability there was a core of stillness to her, a quietness that he suspected she needed to replenish in solitude at times. He surmised the goblin queen might feel much the same as Eir did, for did she not seem like a confined wild thing at times, drained by the never-ending demands besetting the goblin queen in the castle beyond the goblin city? And he knew that she felt the need to escape his nearness and her own desires, for she knew not what she wanted yet.

Himself, he had spent so many great years wandering the underground, drinking in its magic and its beauty, that it had slaked his need to wander. His wildness was given full reign in the abundance of wild magic of the labyrinth, his mind roaming endlessly in the presence of a creature as unpredictable and strange as he would ever encounter, and his powerful and dominant nature was well suited to the life he led. Yet Sarah was human, ever changeable, her strengths not of power and control but of love and protection, and he reluctantly thought she might never be happy being confined as the goblin king was in many ways. The labyrinth had selected its chosen well, a high-born fae mage with the skills and desire for ruling, and a restless human dreamer to tend to its subjects and countryside.

He pushed these thoughts out of his mind and returned his attention to Eir, who had taken several more trays of pastries from the ovens and picked up a fragrant crescent to offer to the king. "You will like the poppy roll, goblin king. It's my mother's recipe," she said with a wistful smile, "she used to say that feeding us poppy cakes bought her a few hours of silence as we'd stare at our toes in maudlin absorption. Not that it ever happened, I think baking kills the poppy juice's powers."

"Thank you, Eir. Do not worry about some poppy rendering me incapable, however much you might enjoy the sight, " he said with his mouth full. "But tell me, if you so crave solitude, is not your companion Ankimo a hindrance in finding it?"

"Ankimo is my very shadow, goblin king, as I am his. He has his own silence, and he makes no demands on me, nor I on him, but our presence in each others life. He is my friend, and he needs nothing from me but what I need from him."

"And what is that, lady?"

"Acceptance for what we are without judgment or demands, love without expectations or jealousy, care and companionship in a terrifying and unpredictable life, what all creatures want. We none of us know what the future holds, what mistakes we may make, but we know that someone holds our back and trusts us."

The poppy cake like ash in his mouth suddenly, Jareth managed to swallow it still and keep talking about inconsequential topics, his mind reeling. The dwarf woman's words had cut him where he had thought no pain was possible.

Never in his life had there been companionship like Eir talked about, for how could it be? The women whom he had loved and who had loved him had shared his life, his bed, his worldly power, but always there had been expectations and judgments, and never had they trusted to hold each others back no matter what. Discontent with life at his parents' court or any other, and without a place to feel at ease he had taken to wandering as a young man, never belonging until he happened upon the labyrinth, being made whole in the binding. His was a content life, full of challenges, of joy and pleasure, of belonging, but he had never known the love between equals that Eir talked about. The labyrinth was part of him as he was part of it, and he had bound himself inextricably and irrevocably, fully willing to sacrifice himself in this life and any other to protect the being that had chosen him. Love was much too small a concept to describe the goblin king's connection with the labyrinth, but they were not equals, for what was a fae compared to a creature as near limitless as the labyrinth? And while Jareth loved fiercely and deeply, willing to sacrifice for friends or kin, their love in his mind was always cautioned by the fact that none of them could afford to have him as their enemy. He could not even imagine love without demands, for how could you not desire and need something from the one you loved? Yet he had to believe that the dwarf trader had happened upon this with the Hundun, for what other love could there be between them?

With a determined effort the goblin king tried to shake off the sudden feeling of violent envy he felt towards Eir, and while he knew that the astute trader could tell the change in his demeanor, she was too kind to press him, and he fled the kitchen as soon as he could.

* * *

Sarah pushed her way through the throng of people in jeweler's row near the castle, Eek on her shoulder and Nehorai like a shadow a step behind her. When the shedim had suggested, early in his unexpected career as her sworn guard, that it might a better idea for him to clear the goblin queen's way, she had sweetly pointed out that it made a lot more sense for him to protect her back since she hadn't yet mastered the fine art of noticing what was going on in her wake. After all, people made space for her immediately, once they realized whom they were hustling. The problem was that they usually only found out after they had spend some energy backing into her and cursing her out before lifting their eyes to her face. Sarah did not mind, and found her peoples' reaction rather amusing, but she wondered how it was that such never happened to the goblin king. She had accompanied him to the old market hall for court day, with people thick in the streets, all heading the same way, but nobody ever cut him off or jostled him. It was as if they had a sixth sense to his presence, and they were as reverential as could be. Sarah grinned. People tended to notice her only when she stepped on them, and then were more likely to invite her to join them for food or drink or whatever they could think of than show her reverence, treating her like a beloved grandmother instead of a remote queen.

As she was admiring a lovely set of thick golden hoops in a small shop, doing her best to discourage the owner trying to give the earrings to her while she kept a wary eye on Eek, who was moving around a tad too casually among the glittering jewelry, a sudden commotion stopped the crowd a block back, a woman's scream rising over the murmur, and people curiously pushed back towards the screaming. Sarah looked at Nehorai and as one they moved away from the clamor, as Sarah had no desire to be caught up in one of the many thefts so common in the markets, not caring to be asked for summary judgment on the thief. Yet before they had gone further than a couple of yards, Eek stopped the goblin queen by pulling hard on the skirt of her dress.

"Is a dead child, Sarra, odei girl not even ten. She look asleep, but her mother scream."

Sarah paled, but determinedly turned to the impenetrable mass of curious onlookers in the narrow alley to push her way through to heart of the crowd. To her immediately forgotten surprise the press of people receded as she walked up, even though she came up on them from the behind, and a path opened before her, the incessant hum of the crowd dying down as the queen passed. Within a minute the goblin queen arrived at the stall of the odei goldsmith, the screams of the desperate woman cradling the body of a motionless child echoing eerily through the inexplicably silent alley. Sarah looked at the woman with pain and pity, the goldsmith might have been beautiful but her pain and terror obliterated all else as she shrieked in disbelieving grief at the motionless figure in her arms. Sarah had never seen any of those who had died of the strange new disease that haunted the goblin city before, but when she looked at the dead child in the arms of her desperate mother, she knew with a sick feeling of dread in her stomach that she had been right - blood-sworn were being killed in the heart of the goblin kingdom without anyone knowing, not even the labyrinth itself.

Sarah walked up to the half-mad odei who threw herself at feet of the goblin queen, clutching the dead body of her child in her arms, and the wild-eyed woman wailed like a animal, begging the queen to save her child, she would give and do anything at all, just make her whole, please, take my life but bring my daughter back my lady, oh please, and Sarah kneeled before the disbelieving woman and gathered the heaving slight body of the odei clutching the child in a tight embrace, until the begging died down and turned to hopeless wails and tears, and the goblin queen pushed down her involuntary revulsion to give what comfort she could to the despairing mother.

At length Sarah stood up, her heart as cold as stone, and she gently talked to the numb odei clutching her child until the woman looked at up her, her face wet and distorted, and hesitantly offered her dead child to the hands of the goblin queen. Sarah kept her face well under control and refused to allow herself to drop the lifeless body of the child to the ground, but held the slight body of the little girl close to her, barely feeling the weight of the little body. The crowd in the street parted quietly before their queen with the dead child cradled in her arms, walking towards the castle with a face as pale as snow. The queen's goblin walked before her, looking more dangerous than he ever had, as terrifying as Sed and as willing to do harm to anyone crossing his queen, and the queen's shadow even more terrifying than usual behind her, emanating a constant sibilant hiss raising the hackles on everyone who heard him. The broken mother of the dead girl followed numbly, looking lost and barely rational.

As Sarah walked through the gates of the castle, she roughly inquired of the guards about the goblin kings whereabouts, and with one look at his queen's face one of the goblins turned on his heel and led the way. Sarah ordered the other one to call together the war councilors immediately, to meet in the king's presence.

Her guide stopped before the door of a reception room, guarded by fae sentries that had accompanied the small group of delegates from Matagamon, which were now cloistered in an audience with the goblin king. When one of the sentries tried to block Sarah's way, she carelessly pushed him out of the way with but a word of power. As the others tried to reach for their weapons to stop the human woman they considered no more than a worthless plaything of a perverted king, they froze in their tracks as they found themselves surrounded by unnumbered furious goblins with weapons drawn, talons and claws extended, eyes whirling, happy to tear to pieces any who offered violence to their queen.

Sarah looked at the men with eyes as cold as death, her voice rough and low, its raw power sending shivers of terror through the wide-eyed fae. "I would advise you to keep your weapons in their sheaths if you care to see the sun rise again. Not that I give a damn one way or the other. Now get out of my way." The fae warriors stumbled over each other in their hurried attempt to clear her way, and without another glance at them the goblin queen passed through the doors that opened to her on their own.

The small group of men in the center of the room looked up in surprise, and the fae from Matagamon sneered at the woman with the small body in her arms. Jareth's face hardened as he beheld the grim little procession, all his senses heightened, and he gathered his power to him. Sarah paid none of them any attention and cleared the table with a burst of magic, paper scattered over the floors as she gently lowered the body of the child on the gleaming wood of the table, the sobs of the child's mother the only sound that filled the air for a moment.

With a nasty jeer on his face, one of the Matagan lords walked over to the table to look at the pitiful little body. "We are talking about important issues, ... majesty. So, a dead odei, enough of those around. Why don't you take that thing where it belongs and leave us to our work?"

Before any of the others could even blink, the body of the hapless man was thrown with tremendous force against the wall, where he hung suspended several yards above the ground with blood seeping out of his nose and mouth, his pain-racked face slowly turning purple as he tried to desperately draw a breath.

The queen's low voice cut into the very minds of all in the room, and the sheer power emanating from the quiet human woman pressed hard on the disbelieving fae who suddenly found it difficult to breathe as her overwhelming magic encircled them.

"This child was one of mine, fae. I would have moved the sky for her, I would have turned time for her. Yet she is dead. I do not care for any of your lives, and if you insist on insulting what's mine, I will happily take it from you." Sarah was white as the paper strewn on the ground, her eyes huge in her sharp face, black as coals. With a cruel smile she watched a drop of blood fall from the man hanging against the wall, and no pity marred her cold features as he whimpered.

Jareth regarded Sarah with admiration in his face and walked to her side, facing the stunned delegation from Matagamon. They felt the room closing in on them even more as the hitherto cloaked power of the goblin king and the goblin queen engulfed the senses of them.

Jareth turned to Sarah and gently touched her frozen face, catching one of the tears running down her cold cheeks unheeded. "Leave him be, my queen, for he is not worth soiling your hands."

Sarah blinked a few times and finally looked straight into Jareth's eyes. She saw her own fury mirrored there, and the pain and pity she felt, and most unexpectedly an unquestioning acceptance of whatever she might do. It sent her thoughts into a spin, and she felt the desperate anger that had sustained her seep away. With a careless gesture her stranglehold on the fae loosened, and the man fell to the ground with a resounding thud, weakly coughing and painfully drawing in a breath.

Jareth looked at the hurt man without pity. "Forever in the goblin kingdom you are herem, Askuwheteau of the Okwáho. You have insulted my queen and my people, and this I will not forgive. If you are found within the borders of our demesne by daybreak tomorrow, you will be killed, your body will be destroyed, and the spot you died on will be sown with salt."

He turned to the leader of the Matagamon delegation with an impatient gesture. "Take him away, my lord Hurin, and be assured that I do not utter idle threats."

The goblin king's eyes were hard as flint. "I tire of the threats of a demesne who refuses to offer any assistance yet dares to threaten us should we not fulfill their ludicrous demands based on nothing but pretension."

His smile was predatory, as a cat considers a mouse before the kill. "Take these words home to your ruling council, lord Hurin. If Matagamon turns against the goblin kingdom in any way, you better start a successful breeding program among your people, for never again will a child from the above find new parents among the fae of your demesne. Decide to throw in your lot with the man without a name, and you will learn that there is a steep price to pay when you finally loose."

The Matagan fae looked at the rulers of the goblin kingdom with white, shocked faces, for fae never let negotiations move to a position where there was no way out, and always in the past had the goblin king joined in the intricate dance of diplomacy they were familiar with.

Jareth looked at them with cool arrogance and pulled back the sleeve of his shirt. A cut opened on his arm and his blood dripped to the ground. "My subjects matter more to me than any of you and yours, my lords. I swear on my blood that I will give no children to the fae of Matagamon to make their own, if the ruling council decides to give any kind of aid to the man without a name or if you advance, by commission and omission both, any threat or attack on the goblin kingdom."

Sarah stood next to the goblin king and held out her arm, and from the slash that appeared her dripping blood mingled with the king's on the floor. "I swear on my blood that the goblin queen will honor the king's oath now and forever, and the fae of Matagamon will dwindle into the oblivion of their choice if so they decide."

As the wounds on their arms healed with barely a flicker of their lids, movement in the puddle of blood on the tiled floor caught the attention of the disbelieving fae, and for a moment they beheld the slender elegant form of a blood-red salamander before the newly-minted creature vanished with quicksilver speed in the crackling embers of the fireplace.

"You may leave now," and with dismissive finality the goblin king turned away from the Matagan fae and walked to the dead child on the table, the queen close by his side.

As the doors closed, Jareth and Sarah turned to the councilors who had quietly arrived in the reception room as the ultimatum unfolded. 'Lo lani and Ikiaq stood white-faced by the dead child and did their best to comfort the mother. Sarah gently touched the numb woman's shoulder and looked at Ikiaq: "Please, Ikiaq, could you assist the lady Uluwehi in the search for the father of Nai'a? She will take you to him, and I want you to help them prepare Nai'a for her funeral." The odei's shoulders shook, but she held on gratefully to Ikiaq's warm grip. With a quick smile to the queen and an inclination of her head, Ikiaq lead the crying woman out of the deathly silent room.

Tiernan walked up to the queen and spoke to her urgently: "My lady Sarah, I heard the commotion in the markets on my daily route through town, but I could not make hand nor foot of the gossip. Are you well, lady?"

Sarah looked at him with a remote expression in her face. "I am well, Lord Tiernan, thank you for your concern. But I must ask you to leave us now."

The commander of the goblin army looked at her with a hurt and confused expression on his face. "But lady Sarah, if this is an attack I need to prepare the army."

"This is a matter for the oathbound, my lord, which you are not. Forgive me, Lord Tiernan, but until you swear a blood oath there are things that are not for your ears."

Tiernan bit back a remark and gave the queen a brisk, insulted bow, then turned on his heel and left the room without a backwards glance, his back ramrod straight.

As Sarah looked up, she saw the goblin king rub the bridge of his nose with his fingers as he always did under pressure. "It seems to me that this is another case of the terrible disease that has been wreaking havoc in the city. Sarah, there are no signs of any magic attack on the child, whatever killed her was not a spell, I am sure of this. What is it that you see, my lady, that none of us can?"

He looked at her in confusion, and Sarah could tell that he did not know what she perceived. A look in the faces of the councilors convinced the goblin queen that they did neither.

Nehorai laid a comforting hand on Sarah's shoulder. "Magic is the essence surrounding all creatures of the underground, Sarah, and we cannot see it as it is at the core of all we are. None but the Shedim ever control magic on the level of creation itself, and even I can only see the barest shadow of what is so obvious to you. You need to show their hearts what their eyes cannot see."

Sarah turned back and looked at the goblin king who had not heard any of the words Nehorai had spoken under the spell of silence. "Nehorai can see it, but you cannot, goblin king? 'Lo lani, the child is odei, can you not see the difference?" The odei shook her head helplessly.

Sarah took a deep breath and tried to put into words what she had never even thought about before. "There is a glow to all that is, sentient creatures, animals, plants, even inanimate matter has it. It is not light, but an inner essence that makes reality look as it does. And this is not only in the Underground, for whenever I am called by a runner to the Above, I can see in all things, weaker but undeniably there. It is a completeness, a trueness to all that exists, even a rock glows with the magic of creation. I never knew this until I saw the child, for this dead body does not have it." The goblin queen looked at the girl and a shudder of revulsion ran through her body. She looked up pleadingly to Jareth and the councilors. "I have seen so many dead, but none like her. There is nothing but pain and loss to a dead body, the one who inhabited it gone to the night, but nothing is terrible about what is left behind." Sarah unconsciously rubbed her hands against her skirts. "There is a void where the child's body is, a tear in the fabric of reality." She swallowed. "I have seen creation in the mists, and before magic congeals into reality, it is unrestrained wild magic, full of that which is part of all that exists. It is gone from this child."

Jareth looked at the dead child, his face white as chalk, and with rising dread he laid his hands on the little body. Sarah could feel him draw on the labyrinth's power through her own mind link, and as she observed the goblin king closely, she was able to grab his arm and hold him upright as he suddenly swayed back on his heels.

He looked at her with horror on his face. "Night, what has happened to this child?" he whispered in a strained voice. Without another word he marched over to a side table and poured two glasses to the rim with brandy. He passed one of them to Sarah and drank down his own in a single gulp. Sarah finished her glass no slower than he did, and the fire burning down her throat and warming her stomach fought back the nausea that had been threatening to overwhelm her since she had first laid eyes on the child.

The lady Sindri put in words what all of the councilors thought. "I cannot see what you see, Sarah, and I am not sure I understand what you meant with your words. But it seems Jareth did."

The goblin king looked at his councilors with undisguised fury, his face sharper, wilder, and more determined than ever. "It is as Sarah described, magic lies at the core of creation, so anything in creation is imbued with magic. The child's body has not a sliver of magic left to it, nothing that made her what she was is left. She was not killed by magic, but by the loss of magic." He stared into the empty glass in his hand and poured himself another drink. "I have never seen with my own eyes what Falin do to those whose existence they destroy beyond the night, but I fear this is what happened to the child. All she was, or ever could be, was wiped out by her killer, and nothing is left that could go on to the other side of night."

The blood drained out of the faces of the horror-struck councilors, and the lady Sindri would have fallen had not Porr caught her in her faint. It took her but a moment to come to, and she gave Porr a grateful smile, but made no attempt to free herself from his arm holding her protectively around the waist, grateful for the comfort of his touch. She was not the only one who instinctively searched out the consolation of touch as the councilors moved closer to each other.

Sindri, still leaning into the chancellor, was the first to speak. "It is worse than I have ever believed it could be. We always knew that those who use heart magic can tear it from their victims if they want to, yet the man without a name has moved beyond all who have come before. Those who hoarded heart magic to the point of murdering victims for their power were stark raving mad by then, and their mistakes were glaring. Yet it does not seem that the man without a name is making mistakes."

The goblin king looked at Sarah with an expression she could not read. "I needed all the Labyrinth's help to get even a glimpse of what has been torn from the child, and I thank the night that I cannot see it by just looking at the girl. But this means I cannot see clearly enough to control it." Guilt, she could see it now, he felt guilty, and she felt fear creep up on her. "Sarah, you need to draw the magic out of the glass in your hand, all of it, and contain it in a crystal. We need to know how much power the man without a name is amassing. Once I understand how much magic this piece of creation contains, I can figure out how powerful he has become with all the lives he has stolen."

She stared at him with wide eyes. "You cannot ask me that," she pleaded hoarsely, "please, it is wrong, you are asking me to destroy creation itself, and I cannot do it," and she did not even realize that tears had begun running down her face again. With a few steps the goblin king stood close to her and talked to her in a soft but urgent voice, his hand holding up her chin so she was forced to look into his eyes. For the first time since Sarah had ever known Jareth, his nearness did not overpower her senses with desire and need, as her instinctive terror of what he asked threatened to overcome her rational mind.

"Sarah, forgive me, but we need to understand the enemy. Goblin queen, you know as well as I do that we have no choice. I swear I would do it myself, but I cannot."

Sarah could hear the despair in his voice as she felt his thumb run along the line of her jaw gently. His mismatched eyes bore into hers with a trust that Sarah did not know she warranted. "It is wrong, Jareth, you know it is. You are asking me to tear a hole into existence itself, destroy creation. How can I do this?"

He gently wiped the unconscious tears from her face. "I will never ask you to destroy life or magic, even if my own life depended on it, but we have been chosen to defend those sworn to us, Sarah. The man without a name walks the streets of the goblin city and kills those we are sworn to protect, my queen. How many of ours will die because we don't know something about him we could have learned? But a glass, my queen, it has never lived or felt, nor ever will. And we will know something more about the man without a name. And the magic will not be lost, Sarah, just taken from an inanimate thing."

**I WILL TAKE THE CHILD AND THE GLASS TO THE MISTS, CHOSEN, TO BE REMADE IN THE CAULDRON OF CREATION, AS ALL WHO DIED LIKE THIS CHILD. I WILL FIND THEM ALL WHEREVER THEY ARE BURIED, NOW THAT I KNOW WHAT TO LOOK FOR.**

Sarah stood unmoving as the tears rolled down her cheeks, and only her shoulders sagged as she accepted that her duty was to do what was abhorrent. The goblin king stood before her like a supplicant, his hand softly on her shoulder, and for once she drew comfort from his closeness. At last she looked up and sniffed as she determinedly squared her shoulders. Jareth picked a silk kerchief from the air and handed it to the queen, who blew her nose, necessary if most inelegant. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, her nose was running and her face blotchy, yet the goblin queen commanded admiration as she forced a grin on her face and refilled the glass with brandy, which she emptied in one gulp. "Just to steady my nerves," she said grimly as she concentrated on the empty glass in her hand. Sarah would never know that she stood absolutely still for well over two hours, her eyes boring into the glass she held before her eyes, a crystal held loosely in her other hand. Only Jareth knew her desperate struggle to find a way to strip the very essence from the glass she concentrated her magic on, drawing on all her strength and all the power the labyrinth and the goblin king shared with the queen. Bound tightly to the labyrinth, Jareth could pinpoint the moment when Sarah recognized how to drain the magic off the glass in her hand, and with a sick feeling he saw the glass in her hand loose its actuality, becoming something obscenely glass-like without any of the reality of it. He realized that he never wanted to see anything that had lived like this.

The crystal in the goblin queen's other hand filled up with all the magic that she drew from the glass the had concentrated her magic on, and it began to glow in a warm pulsing light.

"It is done," she said in a dull, lifeless voice, and dropped what had been the glass but now was but a hole in reality from her suddenly nerveless hand. It never reached the ground.

**IT IS PART OF THE MISTS NOW TO BE IMBUED WITH MAGIC AGAIN, CHOSEN. IT NEVER LIVED IT NEVER DIED, BUT IT WILL BE PART OF CREATION AGAIN.**

And when Sarah crumbled on the spot she stood, Jareth caught her and lifted her into his arms without noticeable effort, carrying her off to his quarters without looking back once, the crystal she had dropped forgotten on the ground until Porr picked it up for safe-keeping. The councilors began to discuss the matters at hand between themselves as soon as they realized that the goblin king was not coming back.

After a time Ikiaq returned to the reception room accompanied by the numb parents of the dead girl, but they left soon with the child in their arms, to prepare her for the funeral.

Before they finished their meeting for the day, Toby turned to Lord Ningyo with a final curious look into the fireplace. "What was the meaning of the red salamander created from their blood, my lord? I have never seen such a thing before." Ningyo and 'Lo lani exchanged a quick look, then the lord from the sea turned back to the young fae. "Nobody has, Tobias, for such has never happened before. If the magic of a fae is very strong, it has been known that soaking the earth with their blood may cause a plant to grow. But never has a living creature been created from the blood of anyone."

'Lo lani spoke up, recalling an old story she had heard as a young girl. "In the cold borderlands a field grows of black nightshade, which are only seen in the warm counties otherwise. A Fian from Annwyn died there in one of the wars of old, and their blood dyed red the field where they were slaughtered," and her face was wistful. "I heard tell that a goblin queen in the past died in Ikh Bogd Uul, the canyon lands on the western reaches, killed in a hunting accident, and they say that a ghost orchid blooms in the crevice where she lay dying."

"When Jareth swore a blood-oath of protection to Makemba, I saw a cobra pitcher grow in the sand where his blood fell to the ground," Toby said quietly.

Ningyo smiled at his lady. "But lord Jareth's and lady Sarah's blood never touched on earth, but pooled on the tiles."

'Lo lani looked at the puddle of blood on the floor. "Salamanders stand for loyalty and courage with many kindreds, but for odei they are a symbol of temptation and desire."

Porr gave a barking laugh. "It seems that a salamander is an apt creation of the king's and queen's blood then," he said tiredly. "We will meet again for the council tomorrow, my friends. Until then I bid you goodbye."

* * *

When Sarah slowly fought her way to near wakefulness after her ordeal, she found herself in a beautiful if stark room in a tower, the high walls covered with exquisitely embroidered hangings, open windows on all sides letting in blood red sun-light, and a cool breeze caressed her sleep-heated skin. The bedclothes were soft and silky against her face and arms, and an seductive smell of wood, storm and something she could not identify seemed to draw her back to sleep and dreams.

As she turned her head to sleepily look around, she noticed the slender figure of the goblin king reclining in a deep chair with his long legs pulled up to the bed, awake but deep in thought and oblivious to the fact that she had wakened. In her but half-awake state she was not unduly alarmed and took advantage of the rare chance to observe unnoticed the man who haunted her dreams more than she cared to admit, without distraction or dissimulation.

His face was stark and beautiful, not the impeccable beauty and refined perfection of the fae, but harsher, wilder and more powerful than mere beauty could be. And in repose just now, it was harsher even than usual, narrow and angular with sharp cheekbones and a nose like a knife, but no smile graced his wide, thin-lipped mouth, and Sarah thought if he ever looked at her with the vengeful expression she saw on his features now, she'd probably run as fast as she could without ever turning back.

As her eyes traveled down his body, a slow smile spread on her lips. She did not understand how a man could wear clothes like he did and not look like a complete idiot and poser, and her memory supplied her with the image of several men in her past who had sported open shirts, some with medallions on their chests as well, and she shuddered. Against all odds Jareth managed to make his shirt, open slightly too low, look appealing, not disgusting. It made you wonder how he'd look without that bloody shirt, not want to run away before he came any closer.

As her eyes moved ever lower, she noticed with some disappointment that the most mesmerizing part of his pants was shadowed by the way he sat in his chair, then immediately beat herself up mentally. Really, looking at a man like this, it was a disgrace. And in a woman her age. She ruthlessly suppressed the niggling suspicion that Jareth did not consider age an indicator of appropriateness, on either side of the acceptable scale for humans. But it was simply unacceptable, really, since she could not stand the man. Objectifying him, as it were, she was ashamed of herself. And in the meantime her eyes moved down over his lean legs, long and shapely, and she idly wondered if he had hairy legs, since his chest was as smooth as silk, and she hoped not.

Without ever noticing she stretched languorously like a cat, and her curious gaze moved up his body again slowly, when she suddenly realized that Jareth was returning her interested gaze with a look of unrestrained amusement on his face, and full alertness slammed into her. With a squeak she pulled up the sheets to her chin, which did not help any to cover the violent blush that spread over her face.

"I do hope you like what you see, my dearest Sarah," Jareth's merry voice cut mercilessly through the haze of embarrassment that Sarah desperately hoped would swallow her alive. "To judge by your appreciative smile, I have high hopes of having found approval in your eyes, but should you have missed anything you feel you need to take a second look at, by all means, do not restrain yourself," and with these words he got up easily and stood in front of the bed in his full glory, every inch of him clearly outlined in the rays of the sun coming in through the windows, and he turned slowly before her eyes with arms outstretched. Sarah was caught helplessly on the edge of hysterical laughter and embarrassed tears, and she thought that she never would have believed that such a thing could happen to an adult woman so long out of her teenage years she could not even remember them any longer.

Determinedly she pulled the silk sheets over her head and pulled all the anger she could muster to her. "What the hell are you doing here, goblin king? I thought this was a dream, and you have been spying on me?" she screamed at the now mercifully invisible man through the sheets.

"You dream of me then, my dear? And with such an expression on your face?" Jareth's silky voice caressed her like a lover's touch. "This just keeps getting better and better, Sarah. But for your information, I do not believe it can be called spying to watch a woman who spent the night in my room. And in my bed."

Sarah pulled down the sheet from her head and stared at him. "Night?" She forced her voice to a lower register by sheer willpower. "What the hell have I been doing in your bed all night, you bastard?"

She thought that Jareth's laughter illustrated his terminal lack of delicacy rather well. "To my utmost regret, my sweet lady, nothing but sleep." He sat down in the chair again, leaning into a corner to face her directly. "And you slept the sleep of the innocent, Sarah, undisturbed and alone in a bed that could have easily accommodated both of us without anything untoward happening." He ginned salaciously. "However, I suspected you might overreact when you woke up, so I dragged out the very reluctant gentleman I had buried deep inside of me millennia ago, when I was still idealistic, and had him sleep on the chair this night."

Sarah suddenly was hit with doubt as to what might have happened to her clothes and tried to figure out as unobtrusively as possible what she actually still wore.

Her inspection was interrupted by what she judged Jareth's unacceptably coarse laughter. "Do not worry, Sarah, you will find that you are still dressed in your shift. I have taken the liberty of removing your overdress and your boots, but I decided that the risk of dismemberment far outweighed any discomfort you might experience by sleeping still mostly dressed", he observed her embarrassment with obvious amusement.

For a moment Sarah sat quietly seething on the bed with the sheets around her waist and clenched her fists, forcing her breathing to slow down and calm. Night, she was no blushing virgin, so what was wrong with her? Had she been in Jareth's shoes, she would have taunted him as mercilessly, she knew, and really, had his actions not been a kindness?

She determinedly ignored the goblin king quietly starting to sing a spectacularly suggestive song she had taught him in the kitchens as Eir, and when he reached the second verse she had calmed down enough to open her eyes and harmonize with him on the song. Jareth looked at her with raised eyebrows, and without missing a beat broke merrily into the even more suggestive chorus, and together they finished the song in immaculate harmony. She flashed him a wide grin. "I am not much of a morning person, as you may have noticed, goblin king. You caught me by surprise, which is not a good idea at the best of times. And it definitely isn't when I am barely awake."

"I shall do my best to remember this for future reference, my dearest Sarah."

"Don't bother, goblin king, there is no need to retain a bit of information you will never have the need to use again, now is there?"

He looked at her with a smile on his face the could not read. "We shall see, my dear, shall we not?"

For a moment Sarah considered just giving up on being a mature adult and really letting him have an earful, but the thought that this was probably what he was fishing for gave her strength and kept a smile on her face, if somewhat strained. "Well, enough of this chitchat, time I got some breakfast." Sarah thought that she was going to have a shower sometime later today, as there was no way she would take her clothes off anywhere in his vicinity, but she had spied her clothes on a chest under a window, and knowing her shift to be as modest as could be, she got up.

Jareth leaned back in his chair, such a pity that she had not answered back, although she had been on the verge of blowing up on him again, he could tell. Well, one thing he could be sure of, his queen would not be able to keep her temper in check when he set his mind to it, and his canines showed in a lopsided smile as he looked at her.

Now, Sarah stretching under the silken sheets in his bed had been a breathtaking sight to behold, and the sensual smile on her face as she had looked him over, unaware of being observed, was all a man could wish for, but he was hard-pressed whether she was not even more seductive now. Safe in her sensible linen shift, his queen was utterly unaware that standing against the early-morning light she gave him a perfect view of her curvaceous body silhouetted against the light, and as she tried to put on her boots while jumping around on one foot, muttering low curses, she cut a more seductive figure than Jareth had seen for longer than he could remember. All fae ladies were tall and willowy, and none of them was ever anything but beautiful, graceful, elegant, and, dared he admit it, insipid in her perfection. And not one of them had ever called him a bastard. He looked at Sarah sitting on the floor now, the hem of her shift hitched up to her thighs as she tried to pull the boots over her naked feet by sheer force of ill will, her short curls tangled and her whole attention riveted on the uncooperative footwear, and he told himself sternly he better get control of his arousal if he wanted to get up when Sarah finally was dressed.

* * *

When she had finally managed to put on her boots and donned her overdress, Sarah was ravenous and followed Jareth into small sunny room adjacent to his bedroom, where Ikiaq was just emptying an enormous tray of food onto a table. When Sarah walked in, she found herself immediately admonished by the castellaine to sit down and eat, and for the next five minutes, while both the goblin king and the goblin queen made some serious headway of the many dishes that graced the table, Ikiaq gave both of them a stern sermon on the dangers of rash actions and unintended consequences. It didn't make all that much sense to Sarah, but she understood well that Ikiaq had been worried about her and needed to vent, and she smiled at her guiltily.

"Now, lady Sarah, do you see the tower over there?" and Ikiaq pointed out of the window. Sarah looked and was about to patiently agree with whatever Ikiaq said, when she stopped and stared out of the window again, Jareth obviously as surprised as she was. The castle had but one tower, she was sure of that, the one that held the king's rooms. Ikiaq looked at them with forbearance. "It grew up overnight, lady Sarah, and it contains the queen's rooms. I have worked with Eek, Nehorai, and Sindri, and we have already brought your clothes and personal items to your new quarters, my lady. Your rooms are waiting for you, lady Sarah," and Ikiaq bowed to the queen and quickly left the room before Sarah had a chance to gather her thoughts.

"But I don't want to move," Sarah called after the castellaine indignantly, but the closed door gave no indication of caring much.

"I am quite in agreement with you there, Sarah, I don't think you should move either." Sarah looked at Jareth with narrowed eyes. "I cannot tell you how long I have looked for the final piece that would render my rooms perfect, and I after seeing you in my bed, I have no doubt that I have found it." He looked at her with glittering eyes. "Although I feel you would complement my decor even better without your shift. And the bedclothes, of course. I believe we should test this out to see if I am right."

Sarah tried her best to hold on to indignation, but she found she could not keep it up in view of his saucy grin. "You, goblin king, are incorrigible, and you know exactly that this is not what I talked about."

"But I am a master in changing topics to suit my desires, as well you know, Sarah, so why don't we continue with the subtle changes I introduced? I am sure it would be a highly edifying conversation," and he laughed at her when she began to lay into him with considerable passion.

"You may as well give in gracefully, Sarah," he said a good while later when Sarah finished off her larak, offering him a chance to change the topic again. "I understand that you would prefer to go back to your own rooms, but since the labyrinth grew your new quarters - and please, let me assure you I had nothing to do with this - I doubt that you have all that much of a choice. As you have mentioned in the past, when the labyrinth has decided on something, it is nearly impossible to change its mind."

Sarah looked mutinously into her mug, then heaved a deep sigh. "I am afraid you are right, goblin king. It has hung around you for too long, that has obviously been rubbing off. I probably should consider myself lucky that I at least warrant my own tower." She grinned. "I bet the labyrinth did not want to add another floor to your tower, goblin king. Just imagine the endless fighting on who gets the highest floor!"

"Obviously I would. After all, I precede you, Sarah." Jareth serenely ignored her protestations.

"But what I would really like to know is why you persist in calling me 'goblin king', my dearest Sarah, as you are well aware of my name by now."

"Sheerest self-protection," Sarah answered promptly, wiping the grin off his face rather effectively. He had not expected this answer. "You are an insufferable, arrogant, conceited, overbearing bastard. Oh, and manipulative."

"Let's not forget beautiful, seductive, charming and brilliant," he said unperturbed.

"Well, of course. And modest. But be this as it may, I find it much easier to point out the errors of your ways when I address you by your title, goblin king. The only way I can stay sane around you is addressing you honestly. Calling you by your name might make this more difficult, since being honest with you and insulting you, well, it's pretty much the same. You see my dilemma." She smiled sweetly. "And I was brought up right, goblin king, so I could never presume to address an old man like you by his first name. It's just not done."

"You did call me by my name yesterday, Sarah," he said quietly, and Sarah looked up sharply to see him study her face with an unreadable expression.

"You may have noticed that I was not exactly at my sanest or most coherent yesterday, goblin king," she said with as much finality in her voice as she could muster. "I do not recall all that I said, and I feel I should be glad of this. Let us leave it at that." The smile on her face was polite and strained.

"I should take a look at my new quarters now, to make sure that my things have indeed all been brought here." Sarah was on the verge of leaving without a further word, but she knew that Jareth deserved to know. Even if she had not planned on telling him like this. "Not that I will be using them for long, goblin king." She did not look into his face. "I have been in the city for nearly eight months now, and I while I am still a long way from being real fighter or mage, I can hold my own for long enough to survive until the cavalry arrives. I am tired of all the people, of the never-ending demands, of the endless noise and bustle. I cannot hear myself think any more, goblin king. I need to feel the labyrinth in my mind again." Sarah's face softened as she thought of the places she would see. "I long for the quiet of the Queen's Palisades, and I have never even seen the canyons of Ikh Bogd Uul." She looked at Jareth with regret in her eyes. "I have truly enjoyed my time in the city, and I hope that you may find time to teach me again when I come back, goblin king, but I have had as much of the court as I can bear." Her smile was rueful. "I am not made for ruling, goblin king, and when I am here for too long, I am torn in too many directions until I forget who I am."

"There is no need to apologize, Sarah. You had made it very clear from the beginning that your stay was going to be a very limited one, and let me congratulate you for all you have achieved in your months here. Do not underestimate yourself, Sarah, for your skills in magic are quite considerable already," and even though Jareth's tone was easy and understanding, she heard the sound of an invisible door slamming shut in her face, and found herself looking at the charming and carefree goblin king she had known before she began her training in the goblin city, the beautiful goblin king who could not be trusted, who cared for aught but what he wanted; and she could not detect a trace of the man she had come to like in the months since, who had worked hard to help her when there was no benefit for him. Helplessly, Sarah bid him a polite goodbye and went to inspect her new quarters, and when she got weepy and despondent later in the morning, she knew it was but an after-effect of the heartbreaking events of the day before.

* * *

Sarah woke up dazedly, was it time to leave already? Yet only soft moonlight lit the night outside her window, sunrise still hours away, and she did not understand the terror in her heart. The last few days had been hectic, as she needed to finish all she had to in the city before she'd be able to get back on the road again, but now they were ready and their few belongings were packed. By all appearances, the trader Eir had left town three days ago, and she had boarded Lazarus and her caravan at Sulio's mill for a fee, so she and Nehorai would soon be back on the road in their caravan, in their familiar guises of dwarf and Hundun. In a few hours they would leave the queen's quarters through the door in her library which opened to her little house in the lower city, a thoughtful touch in her new quarters in the castle that Sarah sincerely appreciated, and life would be back to normal. Now she just needed to get back to sleep.

Yet her unease grew stronger and stronger, and after some more tossing and turning Sarah gave up and clambered out of bed. It was a not a cold night, but her thin silk chemise was more ornamental than practical, and she grabbed a robe from one of the wardrobes. It was not noticeably more substantial, but not everything is at it seems, and despite its lightness the robe was much warmer than its looks suggested. And still her anxiety grew.

**I CANNOT HELP HIM, CHOSEN, THE PAIN IS EVER WORSE, BEYOND MY POWERS TO HEAL. I DO NOT KNOW WHAT AILS HIM BUT HE CANNOT BEAR MUCH MORE. HE CANNOT DIE, CHOSEN, I CANNOT BE WITHOUT HIM.**

The mind voice of the labyrinth cut her to the bone, and the terror that threatened to overwhelm her had her on her feet and running towards Jareth's quarters before she even had time to gather her thoughts.

The goblin king's bedroom was lit brightly despite the early hours, and through the open door the worried voices of Ikiaq and the healer Hina'ea carried into the ante-rooms. When Sarah burst through the door, she was stuck by how ordinary the scene seemed. Jareth sat in a chair, and on first glance there seemed nothing wrong with him. Sed stood like a statue behind the chair and Etain's head rested on his thighs, and Ikiaq and Hina'ea talked in low voices at the bed. Yet as Sarah came closer to Jareth, she was appalled how unwell he looked. He wore nothing but breeches, and despite everything Sarah couldn't help but catch her breath when she looked at his half-clad body, he was the most seductive man she had ever known. He was however paler than she had ever seen him, his skin as colorless as to be near translucent, his eyes blood-shoot and deep-set in his peaked face, with bruised-looking shadows under his eyes and white lips so tight as to be practically invisible he looked like his own death-mask.

Jareth looked up as she came up to him and still managed a suggestive smile: "I knew it, Sarah, you would not be able to stay away from me. I have this effect on women, or so I am told. And let me tell you, my dear, these barely-there robes are most certainly an improvement over your usual clothes. You should visit me in the middle of the night more often."

Sarah managed to answer him lightly, but it was hard. "By the look of you, goblin king, there is not a lot you could do with anyone in your present state, so I must take your ramblings as delirium."

By then Ikiaq and Hina'ea had come over and looked at her anxiously. Sarah was able to extract the bare bones of information from Ikiaq, it seemed that some two hours ago Sed had woken the castellaine to inform her that the king was suffering from terrible headaches, and despite his insistence that it was nothing to worry about, Sed had decided that his master's inability to heal himself most certainly qualified as an emergency. When Ikiaq's attempts at healing magic failed, she had called Hina'ea to the king's quarters, but the odei healer had not been able to bring him relief either. Jareth was resolutely downplaying his pain, but Sarah knew that if the labyrinth was half-mad with worry, his pain had to be far worse than he let on. She was awed how well he had himself under control, still courteous and his voice even, for she knew that in his situation she probably would have been screaming at anyone even looking at her.

"You know I was a healer in the Above, goblin king, and our healing does not have the advantage of magic, so we go about it differently. So please, answer my questions as best you can and I see if I can find out anything."

"You were a horse doctor, were you not, Sarah? I am not sure how this will be much help to me."

Sarah grinned crookedly. "Well, you are a stubborn ass, so my background might come in handy, who knows? What do you have to loose? And if it helps, I could loosen my robe a bit, it might distract you?"

Sarah could barely believe it, but Jareth actually managed a leer. "That sounds like an excellent trade, and I am willing to answer your questions if you do what your said. And I want it a lot more loose than you had in mind originally, Sarah."

Sarah had Sed help the king get into his bed and opened her robe as she sat down on the edge. "You keep your promises, lady," he said with a slight grimace.

"Your turn now, goblin king. Fever?" Hina'ea shook her head. "You are completely lucid and quite yourself, goblin king, and you obliviously don't have a problem with the light and noise here. Can you put your chin on your chest?" Jareth had no difficulty with this. Sarah worked her way through the symptoms of all diseases she knew could cause severe headaches, but impossible as it seemed, headaches were the only thing Jareth suffered from.

"If 0 is no pain at all, and 10 is the worst pain you have ever felt in all your days, goblin king, how bad is this?"

Sarah thought he might not answer, but finally he said so quietly only she could hear, "Thirteen, perhaps fourteen, my lady. And it is getting worse."

Sarah looked at him in sudden shock. "We will find a way to help you, goblin king."

She went over to the healer and began a quiet discussion with her, but it was as if something was itching at the back of her mind, and she found she could not concentrate. She excused herself and went back to sit down on the bed at Jareth's side. "There is something trying to come up in my memory. Sometimes silence helps. Do you mind if I just sit here?"

"I'd be glad for you company, and at present I would welcome silence. Especially since I still can look at you in all your glory. Even headaches can not distract me from your beauty, Sarah."

Sarah blushed deeply down the throat to her décolleté, and with interest Jareth observed that the myth that a woman would blush on all her visible skin was seemingly not a myth at all. He could not help wonder if she would blush all over in the nude. An interesting thought to keep the pain at bay for a while longer.

Sarah sat quietly next to Jareth and let her mind go blank, but even so she noticed that he seemed to be getting more pinched all the time. Finally the elusive memory wiggled its way into her consciousness. She got up abruptly and looked down at Jareth with a grim smile. "I will be back shortly, goblin king. I need to see if my memory serves me right."

* * *

When the goblin queen came back half an hour later, the goblin king's room was a lot more crowded than it had been before she had left. Not only was Tiernan pacing restlessly from one end of the room to the other, but Porr and Sindri were standing at Jareth's bed, looking worried. Sarah noticed that neither of them seemed to have spent much time getting dressed, and with rising amusement she realized that while Porr wore some comfortable clothes, as a man might wear in his rooms, Sindri's dress was the same formal gown she had worn in court during the afternoon the day before. She pushed the thought aside and walked up to the goblin king's bed. As she looked down, she forgot the presence of all the others in the room.

"I have some bad news, goblin king," Sarah addressed the pale man on the bed with her best careless grin.

"You put fear in my heart, my lady," Jareth looked up at her, attempting a smile, but it looked more like a grimace.

"It is my most unpleasant duty to inform you that you will live, Jareth," Sarah sat down on the bed next to the goblin king and leaned forward to him. "You have been poisoned, but I understand that the antidote effects an absolute reversal of all symptoms, and you will not suffer any ill effects from this unpleasant episode. But really, Jareth, I feel I should kill you myself for scaring me as you did. Being a stoic hero just made sure that you suffered in noble silence a few hours more than necessary. Well played indeed, Jareth." Sarah looked down at him with a slow sensual smile on her lips and put her hand on his chest.

They had never touched but their hands enclosed in leather gloves, and Sarah had not known what to expect, which was just as well as she might not have had the courage to do it again otherwise. She had ignored the presence of the others in the goblin king's room when she had entered, but now the knowledge of any existence but his left her head completely.

His skin burned like frozen fire under her hand, and Sarah suddenly knew what it had to be like to touch a life wire. Every hair on her body stood on end, and every inch of her skin was burning with a painful need for his touch. Sarah was scarce able to contain the need to run her hand over his skin, drawn by the desperate compulsion to touch all of him. Her breath caught in her chest, and her heart beat in a hard rhythm of desire that would drive her to madness if unanswered. Her world shrunk to the awareness of him, and she knew only the heat of his body, and her need to be closer to him. Her eyes wide and black as night, she looked into Jareth's eyes and saw her own hunger and desire mirrored in the depths of the goblin king's eyes, his pain pushed to oblivion in the burning touch of her naked hand on his chest. Sarah felt his heart beat in an urgent beat of desire that matched her own. No coherent thought left in her mind, she lowered her head towards Jareth, and then his hand was at the back of her head and drew her down in a hard kiss, his lips like scented silk, searing her mouth with their touch, and she felt his mouth move against hers, demanding and urgent, driving all but a primal need for his closeness from her, the heat of his breath, the wild scent of him, and she knew his smile against her mouth, and when his tongue touched her lip, Sarah ... stopped.

* * *

She sat up breathing hard, shaking all over, and her hand contracted on Jareth's chest, her nails pushing into his flesh, and it took several minutes until she realized that all eyes in the room were riveted on her and the immobile figure of the goblin king, a cacophony of voices around her. She realized that Tiernan was given her an odd look she could not fathom, as if he had never seen her before.

The goblin queen stood up and shook her head, and the commotion in the king's room died down. Tiernan walked up close and spoke in a voice rough with emotion. "What ... what happened, lady Sarah? What do you mean he was poisoned? He lies there like dead, what happened to my brother?"

Sarah stepped back from him, she could understand his agitation yet she did not care for anyone to be so close to her just now. "He was poisoned with Dragon-arum." The silence was only broken by the shocked intake of breath from Ikiaq and Sindri, and Sarah smiled. Ikiaq knew all there was to know about herb-lore, so it was not surprising that she would have heard the name, but Sindri's knowledge was deepest about the past, as she was a scholar of history. It would seem that Dragon-arum had an infamous name in the annals of politics. "Dragon-arum is a rare poison mainly known to dwarves, and it kills its victims by unbearable pain. However, as I told the goblin king, if the patient receives the antidote within twelve hours, he will recover fully."

With these words Sarah looked at the still figure of the goblin king on the bed, and with a wry smile she turned her hand, and a crystal rolled to her palm from nowhere. She threw the crystal at Jareth, and it dissolved in a glowing orb around the goblin king's prone form, enveloping him in a shimmering globe of light. With another gesture the brilliant globe shrunk to an equally brilliant crystal, smaller than her palm, and it came back to Sarah's hand like a falcon to its master.

"The problem is the antidote needs to be fresh, and it takes near two day to brew. Not to mention the fact that it calls for rather esoteric ingredients, several of which cannot be found in the goblin kingdom." With these words she walked to the chair and sat down heavily. "I have stopped time for him, and like a fly in amber he will remain exactly seven hours after he was poisoned, until we have the antidote." And with a smile and a flick of her wrist the crystal in her hand was gone.

"Dwarf poison? What do the dwarves have to do with this?" Tiernan was furious, his agitation looking for an outlet, and his voice took on a threatening ring. Really, men could be so aggravating. Sarah thought tiredly that the next step would be banging on his chest.

"The dwarves were the first to ever use Dragon-arum, lord Tiernan, and they kept its secret for countless great years, but of course it eventually was used by other kindreds." Sarah glanced at Tiernan's stubborn face and went on pointedly. "Fae have been especially enamored by this poison. I hear that Lleu of Ardar Iforas has hugely increased his personal wealth lately, as unhappily many of his fae courtiers died screaming in agony." Tiernan had the grace to look embarrassed, but Sarah was taking no risks. "I will not take kindly to hear anyone malign any kindred within the goblin kingdom. Have I made myself clear?"

Ikiaq's face was set in fury. "Who poisoned Jareth, lady Sarah?"

"The dwarf woman Bergljot put the poison in some dishes he had for dinner. She has come to the city but a few years ago, the last of the dwarves to escape from Tahat. She choose to work as a cook in the kitchens, and she is well trusted and beloved among the servants. And if she did not swear a bloodoath, who could blame her? After Lleu many dwarves have found it difficult to trust a fae lord."

Ikiaq had flinched when she heard Bergljot's name, the quiet pastry chef had seemed as reliable as the earth itself, but her protectiveness of her milk-son won out over her good sense, and without another word both she and Tiernan were halfway to the door before Sarah's voice stopped them.

"If you are looking for Bergljot, she is here," and everyone in the room stared at the two crystals the goblin queen held in her hand. "I don't know what made her do as she did, but when I went to her rooms she was in much worse shape than the goblin king, as she herself had taken the poison hours earlier. She seemed content to die in pain."

Sarah lifted the crystals to her eyes, the light in one much dimmer and paler than in the other. "She did not have the antidote, but that was all she would tell me." Sarah looked at the globe with a cold face. "But we will know all there is to know at her trial, won't we? I am sure between Jareth and me we will get to the truth." And with these words the globes grew translucent in her hands until they were gone.

"Lady Sarah," Tiernan looked respectful but determined. "Please forgive me my inexcusable lack of manners earlier, living through a shock is no excuse to loose control. But we have not time to loose, lady, as an unknown enemy has attacked the goblin kingdom and its sovereign. The war council must meet and decide on what needs to be done, and soon. The news of Jareth's fate cannot be kept silent, and we need to prepare for unrest. This may be the time the enemy has chosen to attack the demesne." He turned to chancellor Porr and bowed deeply. "You have been Jareth's right hand for many great years, lord Porr, you must know that there is no time to loose."

"You are right, lord Tiernan," Porr said with a worried face to the tall fae lord. "Your majesty, what do you want us to do next? I fear lord Tiernan's appraisal may be correct."

Tiernan gave the chancellor a surprised look. "This is ridiculous. I know that you are called goblin queen, lady Sarah, but you are but human, and young. You have never ruled, nor shown any inclination to learn as far I can make out," he said without hesitation.

Sarah smiled. Tiernan reminded her strongly of his brother just then, he was not afraid to say what was on his mind, and he was as convinced that he was right as Jareth had ever been. It had to be a family thing.

"I do not doubt your strength and intelligence, lady Sarah, but there are no kindreds in the underground that will accept the rule of a human. And what do you know of being ruler of a kingdom?"

Sarah still said nothing, but kept her seat in the chair next to Jareth's bed, hair tousled, her robe now loosely closed over her chemise and her feet tucked under, and Eek had found his way onto her shoulder. She had rarely looked less regal. And then Sed, the king's goblin, walked up to the queen and kneeled before her, followed in seconds by the goblins who made up the king's personal guard. Without hesitation Porr and Sindri followed the goblins' obeisance, as did Ikiaq and Hina'ea, and Tiernan stood alone in the room, his face unbelieving.

"My people will follow me, Lord Tiernan, for I am the goblin queen." Sarah looked in his eyes, and it was Tiernan who broke the contact first. "What will you do, my lord?"

"I withhold my judgment, lady Sarah," Tiernan said stiffly. "Yet tonight I believe you are endangering the goblin kingdom for your own vanity, and you are risking more than you even understand. Yet Jareth is my brother, and I will give everything I can to keep his kingdom. Lady," and with a bow Tiernan turned on his heels and left the goblin king's rooms.

Ikiaq was talking soothingly to Sarah before he had even left the room completely, but Sarah just laughed at her. "No need to baby me, Ikiaq, I am not insulted, well, at least not much. That man has a stick up his behind, and he is full of fae superiority." She looked around at the people in the room, trustworthy friends, she knew, not subjects. "Unfortunately he is right that I know squat about ruling. I am afraid the next weeks or months will be interesting ones. For you all as well - I need all help I can get."

Sarah rose from the chair. "The sun will be rising shortly, Ikiaq, can you feed us breakfast in the war room? I want all of you there in an hour, and also the ministers of the council. We need to a plan, and I'll need all your help."

As they left the room, Sindri hung back and turned to Sarah. "Sarah, Tiernan's words might have some kernel of truth in them in any other demesne, but not here in the goblin kingdom. You are the goblin kingdom, and the goblin kingdom is you. How could anyone without the binding rule the land? And for everything else you have the councilors. You might not get much sleep until we have the antidote, but at least you'll know why you hate ruling." She grinned. "That was an impressive kiss, Sarah, if rather unexpected. You two had been very cold to each other in the last days."

"He must have been in unspeakable agony, Sindri, and how could I stop time when his mind was full of nothing but never-ending pain? How does it feel to be frozen in one moment? I believe he deserves to be waiting without agony, the last sensation in his mind other than pain." She blushed as she recalled the kiss. "It was a bit more than I had expected." She looked at the very formally clad Sindri with a wide grin. "Seems I am not the only one who knows that feeling. Lovely dress, Sindri, really, I liked it yesterday, and I like it even more today ."

The very prim tactical advisor to the rulers of the goblin kingdom blushed deeply through a irrepressible smile and decided that discretion was the better side of valor as she fled the laughter of her queen.

Sarah thought she should go back to her rooms and have shower to wake herself up before she faced her responsibilities, however unwillingly. She was just going to sit down on the bed for a moment, really, but then she took a look at Sed's wide grin and figured, who am I kidding? And she laid down on the goblin king's bed and rolled herself in his silken sheets, and the intoxicating scent on his pillow sent her to sleep within moments.


	12. Chapter 11

**CHAPTER XI**

Sarah rubbed the bridge of her nose tiredly. It was only six month since Jareth had been poisoned, but it felt a lot longer. The queen wondered how it was possible that time, which had run away from her on the road, was so stubbornly crawling as she was struggling to rule the goblin kingdom.

"Why the night would anybody want to be ruler? To the point where they'd start a war to win a kingdom?" she demanded from nobody specific.  
"This is the worst job I have ever had, and if I honestly believed I'd have to do it for the rest of my life, I'd start eying an early death. Longingly." Sarah groaned as she looked at the sheaves of paper that lay before her on the desk. "Where is the fun in being king?"  
The ministers and councilors in the room did their best to hide their grins.

Sindri didn't bother. "Jareth rather liked it, you know. Not everybody is as impatient as you, Sarah, and there are people who actually enjoy running a demesne."

"Control freaks, the lot of them, I say," Sarah grumbled.

Sindri just laughed. "And this from the queen who has every single one of her ministers and councilors shadowed by two goblins at any time," she chided Sarah without rancor.

Sarah looked up from her papers and eyed the councilors in the room wearily. "The goblins are not reporting to me what their wards do, you know that, right? I don't give a damn in what bed any of my councilors sleep, or with whom," and though she looked at Sindri with laughing eyes, she did not pursue the topic any further.  
"This is a case of sheer self-preservation, as I can't afford to loose any of you. I am about drowning in all this work, even with all your help, but if the man without a name starts to pick off even one of you, I can just pack it in."  
She looked grim. "And anyways, you'll have to admit it worked. Since Jareth was attacked, only seven people were killed in the city. And whether my actions have anything to do with this or not, I am going to claim the glory for it. Considering that I also get blamed when anything goes wrong." She picked up the title page of yet another stack of paper that lady Siobhán, the clerk of the privy council, had added to the various other materials crowding her desk.

She read the title aloud. "General Livestock Husbandry Program for the Homesteads in the New Territories of the Ascension of the Goblin Queen."  
Sarah put down the paper disbelievingly and looked at the clerk of the privy with a long-suffering expression . "Are you really trying to tell me that the goblin king read all this crap and told you what to do in each case, lady Siobhán?"

It had taken a few weeks until the clerk of the privy council had grown accustomed to the goblin queen's direct manner and utter lack of tact, but the lady Siobhán had long since revised her original doubts about the queen's abilities. As the lady Sarah had stated very clearly from the onset, she had no idea of governance when she took over the administration. Yet with the help of the chancellor the queen had set up a heavy schedule for herself to spend time with the ministers and clerks, and what she needed to understand first. It seemed that she had done nothing but learn since then, and much faster than anyone considered possible. And while Sarah relied heavily on the expertise and good sense of her ministers, she had acquired a solid grasp of what was going on and had begun to give her own input and directions. Lady Siobhán thought that the queen was shaping up to be a ruler that complemented the king well. She understood and mastered well enough the basics of ruling now, but her interests ran along completely different lines than the king's. The goblin king would face a whole slew of new issues to deal with, and keep financing, when he came back, like schools that the queen had begun to set up, and the new guilds whose founding she had instigated. Not to mention her inexplicable interest in controlling what the tanners, the dyers, the smiths, and other craftsmen did with their waste.

Aloud however, Lady Siobhán only said mildly: "The king usually read the summary at the beginning of the report, and only if something caught his attention would we discuss it in detail. However, I do believe we need to discuss the issue of taxation for the next year, lady Sarah. The two harvests this year have been more than plentiful, and it has been a windfall for all farmers and landholders."

Sarah sighed and threw herself into another necessary discussion of mind-numbing tedium, but she was glad when the morning's meeting was finally over and the ministers took their leave, and only Sindri stayed behind.

* * *

"Larak and food," Sindri said with one look at Sarah's face and sent Eek to get Ikiaq.

"I never thought I'd see the day when I hear you discuss the relative merits of staggered taxes versus lump payments. It is truly amazing, Sarah, you are doing better than quite some rulers that have been at it for many great years."

"Let me tell you, Sindri, not only did I never imagine I'd discuss taxation either, I fervently hope I will never again after this is over," Sarah said glumly. "And I bet you that those kings who actually don't have as good a handle on ruling than I do have a lot more fun. I am jealous of them. "

"You knew it was not going to be easy, Sarah. But nobody in the underground will ever dare to naysay the human goblin queen again, you are proving them all wrong. I don't know how you managed to pick everything up as quickly as you do, but everyone is impressed. Even Tiernan has shut up and just does as you say now."

Sarah could not help laughing. "Well, Tiernan hasn't given in completely yet, he still tries to sneak off, I think it's become a competition between him and his guards in the city. They are winning more often these days."  
She yawned. "And to be honest, Sindri, it's not that I pick all this new stuff up as easily as you seem to think. I just make the time for it. Literally."

Sindri looked at her quizzically for a moment, then her eyes widened. "Time magic?"

"Well, when do you think I find the time to read all those thick reports that everybody hands to me with the urgent appeal to give my opinion by the next day? After I have finished everything I need to do every day, which, by the way, takes up more time than I would ever have thought possible, I take yet another exiting report on public sewers, or bridge tolls, or trade contracts, and I move myself outside time until I have finished and understood it. Let me tell you, Sindri, my respect for Jareth has never been higher. I can't wait until I can hand over this whole stuff to him again. Throw it at him, rather." Her voice was wry.

Sindri laughed. "I don't think he spends but a fraction of your hours at it. After so many great years I doubt much surprises him still, nor does it take as much time. You're still new at this, and it will get better."

"That's easy for you to say, Sindri. I know you and Porr are working as hard as anyone else, but at least you both have some ... distractions when you are done at the end of the day." Sarah looked at her adviser with a wide grin.

"There are countless men at court who would like nothing more than to offer you all the distractions you can handle, goblin queen, so what are you complaining about? Tiernan comes to mind. I am sure he is more than willing, and I bet he can kiss very well, too."  
Sindri quickly subdued the cheeky grin on her face and graced Sarah with a very proper and decorous smile. "The chancellor and I discuss matters of national importance after hours, and as everyone is so busy with their own work, we take the only time there is, in the evenings."

Sarah laughed out loud. "That's pretty much what I thought you did alright, discuss matters of national importance. That must be why my chancellor has such a blissed-out grin on his face whenever his thoughts wander these days. I think you two must be hoarding all the good topics, as nothing that makes it to my desk could bring on such a look." Sindri laughed. "You do realize that I have never been to a dwarf wedding? I do hope you'll invite me, Sindri, I have heard they are much more raucous than would be expected in so proper a kindred."

"I certainly hope that you and Jareth will tie the union, and drink copiously to our health, but don't hold your breath, Sarah, it's not going to happen anytime soon." Sarah's eyebrows went up questioningly.  
"We are talking about Porr, remember? While I doubt it is going to take him quite as long to ask me to marry him as it took him to first kiss me, I don't think I am expecting anything to happen in the foreseeable future."

"Surely you're joking, Sindri? The man cannot be such an idiot that he'd risk letting you get away before he had a chance to bind you to him for good?"

Sindri seemed more amused than exasperated. "He knows I love him, as he loves me. He will scrape up the courage to ask soon enough. I don't care about ceremonies, and if I want to start a family before he has managed to ask me, I will tell him."  
She grinned. "Actually, if all I wanted is to get married immediately, I would simply mention children in his presence. He'd ask me posthaste then."

Sarah looked at her curiously. "Since you brought up the topic, you can just as well answer my questions now, as I don't know whom else to ask. There are many bound couples at court, and all over the kingdom. The labyrinth says this means they have chosen to stay with each other and raise a family together." Sindri listened attentively. "Well, if I understand correctly, bindings are forever, and that's a bloody long time. And why do they do that, as I know that fidelity is not part of the deal? Half of the married ladies here at court have shared Jareth's bed, if not more, and I can see no jealousy anywhere among the men. Aren't the men afraid they'd be raising a cuckoo? I mean, most married men and women her seem to be considering marital vows as something of a joke."

Sindri began to laugh. "To begin with, Sarah, I'd advise you not to ask such questions of any other dwarves, huldra or haltija. Or shedim. We are a bit more constrained than humans and fae. Not that anyone would say it to your faces, but as far as we are concerned, where fidelity is concerned, there is little difference between rabbits and fae or humans." Sarah was rather amused.  
"Yet fidelity is not what the marriage oath is about. The oath of binding to a life mate is not taken easily or on impulse. We share our beds with others before we bind ourselves, but this has nothing to do with the binding. We marry someone we care for, someone we love and trust, someone who shares our ideas and dreams, who will build a life and a family with us. All kindreds are such, even fae. The person you marry will be the mother or father of your child if you are blessed. They will be part of your life forever." Sarah was not as surprised as she had been when first realized the value of children and companionship in the underground.

Sindri continued. "For many kindreds the person we bind ourselves to is the only person we will ever share our bed and our bodies with again. This is our nature, and we just find it strange that for other kindreds the desire for another still exists, for it is not our way. This is not so for fae or humans, and for a few other kindreds. Yet even for the fae, the oath of binding is more than a promise but powerful magic. In the binding, two people give their hope for a future into another's hands. A bound couple will only ever have children with each other, it is the way of the binding. Understand, it is not a bond undertaken lightly, for all in the underground crave children. It matters more than the desires of the body and the heat of the embrace, the love of someone who will be there for us and the hope for the future that our children are."

Sindri looked at Sarah's surprised face. "All bound couples in all demesnes know that their children are theirs, for the magic allows nothing else. They know that their oathbound mate is their lover and their friend who chose them knowingly and with open eyes. Life is long in the underground, and if fae and humans seem to be drawn to others even when they are bound, these are but passing pleasures and joys, shared with others of like mind. Even fae and humans understand this," and she smirked at Sarah. "But dwarf or fae, your mate will ever hold your trust and ward your back, and even if you do not desire them as you did once, their love and yours is at the root of your life, so much more important than the rabbiting."

"You just could not help that last remark, could you, Sindri?"

Sindri laughed out loud. "Well, I am obviously of the opinion that we are much superior by not jumping into as many beds as we can." She turned serious, however, before she went on.  
"But really, all that means very little, Sarah. Binding is about love and family and future, not just desire. I think that is why we think so little of humans."  
The dwarf lady looked at her queen with a touch of apology in her eyes. "Humans are blessed with children, yet they do not understand the gift they are given. So many of the little ones that Jareth brings over are in miserable shape. I have seen babies that were little more than skeletons, their eyes sunken and their little bellies bloated with hunger. I have seen small children with broken bones and bruises all over, and who could possibly do this to a helpless little thing? I have seen young girls so terrified that they began to shake when a man as much as looked at them."

Sarah looked at her hands, unsure what to say, as she agreed with all that Sindri said. "I have no explanation or excuse, Sindri. Please understand, though, that the children that Jareth and I take are from all the human history, in all the Above. This might not seem all that long if you are immortal, yet it is countless generations for mortals. I have brought many children to the underground now, and there a many places and periods in the Above where people hold their children as precious as any parents do in the Underground. Many of the half-dead children were wished away by mothers who were in even worse shape and desperately hoped for anything better for their children." She gave Sindri a wry smile. "Humans breed like rabbits, and it is hard to imagine for any in the underground, but too many children can destroy you as much as too few."

* * *

When Ikiaq came in with food and hot larak, the discussion ended abruptly as the women dug into the food hungrily, and when a bit later Porr arrived, the war council began over lunch.

As Porr picked up a meat sandwich, Sarah looked at it with momentary envy. When he caught her look, the chancellor seductively wiggled the sandwich before her face. "I promise you, lady Sarah, the cow that went into the making of this slab of meat never talked to anyone. It's probably been dunking its tail into countless pails of milk before it was slaughtered, and it was about as sentient as a carrot."  
He bit into the bread with relish. "This is the best meat I have ever eaten, really. You should try it, lady Sarah."

"It is amazing how Jareth's friends have the same sadistic streak he does," Sarah said sourly and grabbed a fish sandwich.  
"I have had cows and pigs talk to me, and even if most of them are just dumb animals, the memory rather turned me off meat. And if you don't stop waving your sandwich before my nose, lord Porr, I will fill your dreams with sweet-talking animals until you're not able to eat anything but carrots ever again."

Porr hid his grin. "When will lord Tiernan be back?"

Ikiaq looked up from her mug of larak. "We heard strange rumors from the fens, and he went to find out more. Well, the rumors were right. There are dead oathbound in the fens. He sent word he'd be back in a few weeks, it has gone bad there."  
Ikiaq's face was shadowed. It seemed that whenever the situation got better in one part of the country, it took a turn for the worse somewhere else.

Sindri had better news. "But on the positive side, I have just had word from Toby, and he has managed to acquire nearly all of the ingredients for the antidote. It seems Matagamon has been instrumental in helping him with some of the strangest things - a naga's eyeteeth, and a feather from the tail of the Roc. It is nice to know that they have made their choice," Sindri looked at Sarah innocently, she had predicted that in the end the Matagan fae would not dare to back the man without a name, but Sarah had thought them narrow-minded and dumb enough to do it anyway. "All the best dwarf healers are in the healer halls in Joensuu, and they will prepare the antidote as soon as they have everything. Toby will bring it here when they are done."

"So we need mostly a few more ingredients of lesser importance? And of course a whisker from the Uncegila. Well, who to better gain it than the man who defeated the Leviathan? Ningyo is the Sao Llyr's sister-son, and he has upheld his ties to the sea. I cannot foresee any difficulties. Having the goblin king owing a life debt to the sea is worth much." Sarah closed her eyes as in supplication. "I can't wait until Jareth is back. I am exhausted from living up to the court's expectations of me, and I miss the road so. I finally want to be able to say my mind again. If I never talk to another diplomat again it will be too late."

Porr gave her a commiserating grin. "Talking of diplomats, lady Sarah," and he handed her a thick sheaf of documents bearing the seal of the Archon. Makgadikigadi had decided that this was an excellent time to re-negotiate some of their trade contracts, and while Sarah was incensed that they were so blatantly trying to take advantage of her inexperience, she rather admired the sheer nerve. With a groan she took the tied papers and threw them to Nehorai, who picked them up mid-flight with practiced ease.

Porr shook his head. "You really need to read them, lady Sarah," he admonished her. "You are far better at diplomatic negotiations than you had ever admitted to, but you do need to read the papers."

Sarah gave him an appraising look before she finally spoke. "I hate to destroy your illusions, my lord Porr, but you have never heard a single one of my words in any of the diplomatic meetings I attended. Consider yourself lucky. Had any of the envoys heard what I really had to say, it might have damaged the goblin kingdom's relations with our neighbors a lot more than you would like."  
She winked at Nehorai. "Luckily for you, my shadow has brains, social skills, and tact. And since he is under a spell of silence, nobody can hear a word he says to me."  
As her councilors looked at her with dawning understanding, Sarah smiled serenely at them. "I have been able to master just about everything that you asked me to learn, lord Porr, but I think it is impossible to teach me the kind of measured judgment, or polite conversation, necessary for success in diplomatic negotiations. Nehorai, on the other hand, was made for this kind of work. He reads the contracts and the background reports, he evaluates them a lot less emotionally than I would, and he carefully considers what would be best for the goblin kingdom without daydreaming of eviscerating the bastards. In short, he is all you need. You might have noticed how very ... well-considered and ... thoroughly thought-out my words are with the legates from other demesnes. And let's not even mention the ... time-lag between their questions and Nehorai's words first leaving his mouth, and then mine."

Porr was speechless, but Ikiaq and Sindri broke into laughter. "I am glad to hear you are not accomplished in every respect, Sarah," Sindri managed to get out.  
"I had been wondering if you were possessed or something, you were so spookily controlled when you dealt with the ambassadors, it seemed your opinionated nature had somehow vanished." She smiled at Nehorai. "I am so glad to hear you cheated, my queen. And you are right, Nehorai has been doing brilliantly. He seems to have a natural gift for this - even Jareth looses his temper at times, but Nehorai seems to be doing him one better."

And their discussion turned to other topics. Yet from then on Porr would search out Nehorai and put into his hands the information for diplomatic meetings, and when he talked about issues with another demesnes or background on some visiting nobles, he would always direct his words to the queen's shadow, or seek Nehorai out to give him some additional information.

* * *

Yet despite the auspicious beginnings to gathering the ingredients of the antidote, to Sarah's utter dismay another seven months passed before it could finally be brewed. Unfortunately for her, one of the ingredients was a seed of the titan arum, and it took months to find a specimen that had flowered and seeded, even in the hot forests of Makgadikigadi.

But whether the goblin queen truly appreciated it or not, her year ruling the kingdom in the goblin city had given her a place in the hearts and minds of her people far beyond the loyalty she commanded simply because she was chosen.

She had gained the respect of the officials of the court and the administration, who had not thought it possible that a mere human, even if she was the goblin queen, could successfully reign. Sarah's unceasing labor, her hard-earned proficiency and her willingness to accept guidance and help had won her the admiration of the lords and ladies on whose advice she had relied, without letting herself being led.

The court was charmed by a queen who was wildly human yet powerful and wild, sometimes eerily reminiscent of the king. And if her amused disregard of rules and traditions did ruffle some feathers, her undisguised curiosity and fascination in all people she met made up for it.

And the people in the city took to the goblin queen when the sudden deaths in the city dwindled, and the new schools and guild halls had her people's tongues wagging. While they reserved final judgment on these new-fangled concepts, they were still delighted by their queen's labors to better life for her people. And it helped that the citizens of the goblin kingdom had a high appreciation for entertainment, and with the queen now presiding at court day, seats in old market in town had become ever more scarce. Sarah had found that the best preparation for court day was to go into the market as Eir and gossip with people about the cases to be brought before the queen. There was not much that gossip did not understand about the history and possible motives for any case, and Sarah relied on it to get her through her cases. The betting tables did brisk business as before, although it had taken the huldra a while to be able to gauge the queen well enough to make profits from their bets. The goblin queen could be as nasty as the king, but she got riled by different things, yet the general consensus was that for one as young as she, the queen had excellent insight into how people would lie in court.

And Sarah's every waking hour was filled with un-ending duties, and while she found the burden easing with time, she craved silence and freedom more than she admitted to anyone. So when Toby finally arrived in the castle with the flasks of antidote before the Lughnasadh celebrations, just over a year since Jareth had been poisoned, Sarah was ready to kiss his feet and call him savior.

Given a choice, Sarah would have probably preferred to be as far away from Jareth as possible when he was administered the antidote, but unfortunately she had to be there to draw him back into time. She was embarrassed to admit it even to herself, but sometimes at night, when everything had seemed too overwhelming and all she had wanted to do is run away, she had quietly gone into Jareth's room and slept in his bed, his blankets wrapped tightly around her and her head buried in his pillows, and she woke up comforted and ready to face another day. Well, what was done was done, and she was certainly not going to tell him about it.

Sarah had donned her most severe dress, pointedly ignoring Nehorai's teasing, for Nehorai was the only one who knew about her night visits to the goblin king's rooms and had drawn his own conclusions from it. She had no plans to get into touching distance of Jareth, and she was most certainly not going to think about the kiss. When Sarah thought how impeccably the goblin king had comported himself in utter agony, she felt that it might be best to have as few witnesses around as possible when the antidote started to take effect. You just never knew what choice words might come to him when she brought him back. She had planned to get it over with as quickly and with only a healer to help, but she found that she was facing formidable opposition she could not completely overcome.  
So now she stood in Jareth's bedroom, Nehorai and Sed quietly beside her, with the healer Hina'ea, Ikiaq, and Sindri. She had put her foot down and strictly forbade the men to join them, though both Tiernan and Porr had been most vocal in their objections, and even Toby had pleaded most convincingly, but to no avail. The queen had finally laid down the law, declaring that men had no place where life was given, and that had shut them up but good. Sarah felt like an utter hypocrite, as she knew she played on a perception common in the underground which considered birth to be woman's work exclusively. It was not an opinion she shared, but she was not averse to using it to her advantage. She was determined to limit the amount of people at Jareth's return to the living to as few people as possible.

So from the deepest recesses of the mind of the labyrinth Sarah brought back into existence the crystal she had hidden Jareth in. She grew and finally dissolved the sphere of light over the bed, gently laying down his prone half-naked body. She forced herself not to ogle him and handed a flask of antidote to the castellaine.  
"Just pour the stuff down his throat, Ikiaq, explanations can wait until later," she admonished. "He is in agony, and the faster the antidote gets into him the better."

Sindri grinned at Sarah. "Healer Hina'ea, don't you agree with me that this is much too disorienting and abrupt?" she asked sweetly.  
"I really think you should kiss him as you bring him back into time, Sarah, I am sure it would help him tremendously. And then you can give him the antidote. Now wouldn't that be considerate?"  
Ikiaq and Hina'ea did not bother to hide their laughter. Sarah looked at them with murder in her face, her face scarlet. The last thing she needed was to be reminded of the kiss. It presented itself unbidden in her dreams a lot more often than she cared to remember, but she preferred not to think about it in her waking moments. It had been the normal reaction of a human to a fae, and that was all there was to it.

Ikiaq scolded Sindri laughingly. "Really, Sindri, we are talking about the goblin queen and the goblin king. When was the last time they admitted to being considerate? They only do that when nobody watches. So perhaps we should leave them completely alone."

"Just in case you forgot, Ikiaq, that is exactly what I had wanted in the first place. But you and Sindri just would not relent until you could be here as well," Sarah forced out between clenched teeth.  
"Why don't you get on with it?" and to her relief Ikiaq turned to Jareth and uncorked the antidote.

Sarah went deep into her mindlink with the labyrinth and gathered the magic to her, and with a twist of her hand, just so, she punctured the bubble of timelessness that enclosed Jareth, and he fell back into time. As he lay on the bed with wild eyes, Ikiaq resolutely put the flask to his lips and drained the muddy liquid into his mouth. The potion ran down his throat and left him sputtering and coughing, but Sarah saw with relief that he swallowed it all. Ikiaq spoke to him in the calming voice of a mother comforting a hurting child, telling him that he had just taken the antidote, and the pain would end soon, and her calming voice and touch stilled the confused man. Sarah was debating with herself if she should take the sensible, cowardly way out and just run away, but her pride would not let her, and so she staid where she was, trying to blend with the wall hangings as best she could.  
Hina'ea took Ikiaq's place at Jareth's side and assayed his body with her healing magic, careful not to brush against him. Sarah felt much better when she realized that she was not the only one mindful about getting close to the goblin king. Although it seemed wiping a snot-nosed child's face imparted immunity, for Ikiaq never hesitated touching him, and he touched her with equal ease, but everyone else was exquisitely careful not to ever get in physical contact with Jareth. When she thought of it, she realized it was the same with her - the only person who ever touched her, or whom she touched, was Nehorai, and her goblins.

Within a short time color crept back into Jareth's face and his tense features began to relax, which unfortunately allowed him to pay attention to his surroundings again. Looking around, his eyes fell on Sarah trying for invisibility against the wall, and a salacious smile stole on his face.  
"Really, my dearest Sarah, this dress does nothing for you. A potato sack would look as good. I much preferred you in this charming bit of nothing you wore just a moment ago. It suited you much better, and it left so little to the imagination." He obviously enjoyed the dark blush that seemed to permanently settle on Sarah's face.

"As I imagine you have surmised, goblin king, it was hardly a moment ago," she said in her most freezing tone, knowing full well that it would not stop him.  
"Perhaps you also remember what else I said? I told you that I would kill you if you ever tried to die on me again? Keep in mind I was in a good mood then, as I had just learned about the antidote. I am not in a good mood now, goblin king. And killing you would be too easy. If you ever flake out on me like this again, night help me, I'll castrate you. That should keep you in business, and it would cut down on the distractions." Sarah glared at him, her temper rising when she saw his delighted amusement.  
"I have been doing my best to pretend I make a decent queen for a solid bloody year, so now you have exactly four days, until after the Lughnasadh ball, to recover. Me and Nehorai will be leaving the city for the road the day after," she finished in a growl.

"A whole year?" For a moment Jareth seemed truly startled, but he recovered quickly.  
"I am sure you did an admirable job, my dearest Sarah," he went on unperturbed, sitting up and stretching like a cat while Sarah stared determinedly at her hands.  
"But perhaps you should have taken a little longer before you took me out of time, as I certainly do not recall any pain at all just before you stopped time. You make an excellent pain killer, my queen." His smile went through her to the tip of her toes.  
"Everything considered, it was an excellent idea of me to teach you time magic. I am disappointed, though, I would have thought you could procure the antidote faster."

Sarah was already taking a deep breath when she realized that he was consciously goading her, and with all her strength she suppressed the words that lay on the tip of her tongue and smiled at him forcedly.

"Ruling has done you no end of good, Sarah," Jareth said approvingly. "I doubt you would have been able to stop yourself from blurting out your words a short year ago."

Sarah felt it was time to leave the premises before she forgot about her lofty achievements of the past months and looked at him scathingly. "It is obvious that you are as good as new, goblin king, more the pity," she told him as pointedly as possible.  
"I believe I'll tell the good news to everyone outside." Jareth looked slightly alarmed, and with a relish Sarah continued. "I believe they can't wait to bring you up to date on all that happened, goblin king. I am sure you'll have a relaxing day."  
And with a poisonous smile Sarah left the king's bedroom.

* * *

Sarah had underestimated Jareth's ability to recover. The day after he had taken the antidote she went to the library to read some recent report and found him sitting in one of the chairs, engrossed in some paperwork and surrounded by a sizable crowd of goblins. For a miracle the goblins were actually quiet, they had missed their king enough to even put up with his unreasonable demands for silence to be close to him. As the door opened he looked up, and a smile softened his focused features. Sarah thought he looked none the worse for the poisoning, obviously there was more to immortality than just not aging.

"I hope you don't mind if I join you, goblin king?" she asked as she threw her reports on a desk before she sat down in a deep chair. "Interesting reading?" she inquired with a nod to the papers on the desk before Jareth.

"Quite so, Sarah, and most informative. Lady Siobhán has prepared a write-up of all that happened while I was frozen in a moment of unending bliss," he grinned at her unabashedly, "and it makes the most fascinating reading."

A morning spent in three meetings had sapped Sarah's contrary spirit, and she just looked at him exasperated. "Perhaps I should have been poisoned," she said with a wry grin. "It sounds as if you had a much better time than I did."

"You might not have had a good time, my queen, but you performed the duties of the ruler of the goblin kingdom without fail, and from what I am reading, you put everyone who might have doubts about your abilities to shame." He smiled at her with frank admiration.  
"Not that I ever doubted your starling qualities, Sarah. Although I do find myself surprised that we still have diplomatic relations with anybody. And they seem to be very good actually. There are depths to you I have not yet plumbed."

Sarah laughed. "Well, you better get up to speed as quickly as you can, goblin king. As I am sure you realize from your light reading, I am more than ready to run screaming from the city and anybody asking me for another decision on," and she lifted the front page of the papers before her to read the title, "River tolls for bridges and locks." She looked up with a grimace. "And they want a decision tomorrow. So forgive me, but I need to read up on this report, goblin king."

She leaned back in her chair and tucked her feet under. With a quick gesture Jareth conjured two steaming mugs of larak on the table, and Sarah gratefully took one before she delved into the report. They spent the next two hours reading their papers, and occasionally Sarah would ask him to clarify an issue in the report she did not understand, and he would ask for an explanation of an item in lady Siobhán's report, and they worked in companionable silence.

Before Sarah left for her next meeting, Jareth turned to her. "The day after the Lughnasadh ball is court day, Sarah. I will join the dais, but it is the goblin queen's last court session for a while, am I correct? You will have to sit in judgment over Bergljot."

Sarah looked at him aghast. "But ... I thought you would be the judge. I don't know enough to be able to judge someone accused of attempted murder of the king! Who is going to defend her? Night's sake, goblin king, how can I be a fair judge? I have only dealt with the usual petty cases in the last year, how can I judge this?"

"She tried to kill me, Sarah. I imagine as far as prejudice is concerned, I would make a rather biased judge. You need to find the truth as best you can. Talk to Sindri, she might be of some assistance - I do not believe anybody knows quite as much as she does of past assassinations, treason, and their punishment. History is full of such stories."  
He grinned maliciously. "You can always sentence Bergljot to death, and nobody, including myself, would consider it an unfair or wrong judgment."

With a groan Sarah picked her reports from the desk. "And here I thought I might actually enjoy the Lughnasadh celebrations. Now I'll be worried all night."

"Don't fret, my dearest Sarah, I shall do my best to distract you," Jareth laughed.  
"But before you leave, tell me, where is Tobias? I have seen him but a few minutes yesterday, and now he seems to have vanished. I need him to go on a mission after the celebrations, and ..."

"No you don't, goblin king," Sarah interrupted him. "Toby and Heulwen will handfast in Tailltean marriage at the ball, so he is rather busy."  
She grinned. "You should see the Carmarthen Fianna trying to impress on him the utter honor of having one of theirs as much as look at him. And don't even think about sending him away for a while - I relied much on him in the last year, and he did not get to spend as much with Heulwen as he would have liked to. He is the one who collected most of the ingredients for the antidote, and he has been traveling long and far for them. The boy deserves some time with his new wife after the celebrations, so leave him be."

Jareth looked at her with surprise and delight on his face. "This must have developed quickly. A year ago he had not even managed to confess his feelings to her, and now they already want to handfast?"  
He shook his head in mock pity. "Ah, the exuberance and rashness of youth. Not to mention the ignorance."

"You know, I told them the same thing, why hurry so much? I refrained from asking if they had a bloody idea what they were doing, I figured it was the wrong thing to say out loud. I only mentioned to Heulwen that there are many fish in the sea, and she asked me not to compare her beloved to an animal." Sarah and Jareth looked at each other and broke into laughter.

"Well, a year and a day is not a long time," Jareth said thoughtfully. "However, Tobias is steadfast and constant, and Heulwen is a very sensible young woman."  
He looked at Sarah with a smile. "You might have to be here in the goblin city for the next Lughnasadh as well, Sarah, as those two might well confirm their promise."

Sarah turned to the door. "As long as I am not subjected to reports on taxes and tariffs, I believe I am up to it. And now I have to run - as well you know, goblin king, it does not do to let lady Siobhán waiting."  
And with these words the goblin queen left the library.

* * *

To her surprise Sarah was able to enjoy the Lughnasadh ball after all. It was hard not to, what with Jareth being at his most solicitous and charming and Toby and Heulwen being beyond themselves with joy and sharing their feelings generously. Sarah saw with gladness that Porr seemed to be over the extreme discretion he had displayed for much too long and was positively hovering over Sindri, who took very nicely to his obvious rapt attention and familiarity. When the queen danced with the goblin king, he began to inquire in depth about this development, which he had obviously missed completely, and she was glad to oblige as it allowed her to concentrate on something else but his nearness. Her evening passed in dance and flirtation, and if she had too much firewine to drink, she told herself that it did not give you headaches or any of the other side effects that overindulgence of wine made of grapes would cause.

* * *

The old market hall was as crowded as possible, several times as many people squashed in than the fire regulations in the Above would have considered acceptable, as everyone wanted to hear the goblin queen's justice for the would-be assassin Bergljot as much as confirm that the goblin king was healthy and hale again as ever.

On the dais Sarah looked menacing and enchanting in equal parts in the goblin queen's formal robes, a dark dream in black embroidered skirt panels over tight black pants in knee-high dragon boots, her grey spider-silk shirt cut low over her breasts to show her braided necklace and the medallion, a stunning dragon leather armor covering her waist and ribs, reaching up high on her back, graceful sprays of the deadly spines spiking away from the armor. Her weapons belt hung low on her waist with her cobalt side-sword on the left and a dagger on the right. Her hand was clenched on the pommel of the sword. She was deep in conversation with Jareth who was equally alluring in the finery of the goblin king. Their watchers admired the harsh and fierce fae beauty of the goblin king and the very human allure and passion of the goblin queen, and they looked like none else in the underground.

To some degree Sarah was glad that she was too wired to truly appreciate his heart-stopping beauty, she was not sure that she could have kept up her side of a coherent conversation when he did his best to be his most seductive and alluring.

"Is there anyone in the crowd you absolutely need to get into your bed right now, goblin king?" she snapped at him. "Turn down the glamour, or you'll start a riot among the womenfolk out there."

"Do I detect a note of yearning in your voice, my sweet Sarah?" Damn, nothing seemed to ever shut that man up.

"I understand that you need to make it very clear that your alive and well, goblin king, but you are giving me a headache just from standing next to you. I think it's testosterone poisoning."

"It is always advisable, Sarah, to make sure that the recipient of your insults actually understands what you are insinuating," and Jareth leaned closer to Sarah. "Who knows what testosterone is? This was a waste of an excellent opportunity for insult."

Sarah shot him a amused look, but before she had a chance to answer, the bell rang out to declare the court adjourned for the day.

On the dais, Sarah and Jareth turned in unison towards the people in the hall, and the voices in the hall died down quickly. Sarah felt her blood rush through her ears and completely missed Jareth's speech to his subjects as she tried to force herself to calm down before she had to pass judgment on someone she actually knew and liked. The next few minutes passed in a daze, and much too soon Sarah found herself alone, facing her people as Jareth retreated to a chair at the edge of the dais.

She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders and with a graceful turn of her arm a crystal appeared in her hand and floated to the space before her at the edge of the dais, where it began to grow, became insubstantial and dissolved, and the dwarf cook Bergljot stood in front of the queen. The accused woman was clean and properly dressed, but she looked pale and drawn, her shoulders hanging low and her arms wrapped tightly around her body. When she realized that she stood before the queen, she looked up like a startled animal, and her eyes unconsciously searched out the goblin king, but she quickly looked to the ground when she met his curious gaze.

"I am sorry he's alive," Bergljot said defiantly without looking up, "and he wouldn't be had I been smart enough to poison you as well. I am sorry I didn't think of it."

An angry murmur rose in the hall.

"So you admit that you poisoned the goblin king, lady Bergljot?" Sarah asked mildly, her voice and that of the accused carrying easily to all corners of the hall.

"I did, and I would do it again in a heartbeat. I am only sorry I failed," the pale woman said nastily and looked at the goblin queen with a distorted face.

Angry shouts rose from the crowd. "Hang the bitch" was one of the nicer epithets directed at Bergljot.

Sarah turned to the crowd with a smile and addressed them gently. "As I am sure you all understand, this is a serious case. If you are interested in actually observing the proceedings, you are welcome to stay. However, this is neither a kangaroo court nor a lynch mob."  
Her voice did not change, but a sudden hush fell over the agitated audience. "Should any of you feel it necessary to interrupt me again, or hurl insults at the accused, I will give you the opportunity to ponder the wisdom of your behavior. In a wet and cold oubliette. I have the perfect one in mind already. And don't you worry about starving there, you can always catch and eat one of the rats infesting the place. I am sure I'll remember to get you out again before you are quite dead."  
She gave her spell-bound listeners a blinding smile. Jareth relaxed in his chair, and none of the entertainment he felt showed on his face. His queen certainly had a distinctive style.

Sarah turned back nonchalantly to Bergljot who looked at her strangely. "So, you poisoned the goblin king with the intention to kill him, and you do not regret it. Did I understand you correctly, lady Bergljot?"

"You heard me right the first time, you human whore."

The hum in the hall from the breath and murmur of a crowd got louder, but nobody said anything. Jareth's eyes narrowed, but Sarah did not seem fazed at all.

"You have been known to your friends and coworkers for well over ten years, lady Bergljot, and everyone knew you as kind, gentle and meek. You never use objectionable language, you are hardworking and lending help to anyone who might need it. You were described as a good friend in need, trustworthy, honest and reliable." Sarah walked up to the accused woman and looked her over carefully.

"More the fools, they are. I hate them, slaves to the fae, and I hate the fae. I wished I had managed to kill the bastard." Bergljot spat out her words, steadfast refusing to look into Sarah's face.

Sarah began pacing the dais from one end to the other while she talked as if to herself, seemingly ignoring all else.  
"Dragon-arum is a terrible poison. The victims die shrieking silently, their voice cords torn from screaming in mortal agony for longer than anyone can bear, their minds long gone from pain by the time death finally frees them from their torment. Often their death is not the result of the eventual stopping of the heart from pain but by their own hands, driven mad by pain they swallow their tongues, or tear out their throat or eyes with their own fingernails."  
Sarah stopped for a moment before Bergljot and looked at her with her head aslant before she went back to pacing. "The pain becomes well neigh unbearable after four to five hours, but in general people only die twelve hours or more later."  
Her listeners in the hall looked sickened. "The poor victims who receive the antidote more than twelve hours after they were poisoned recover, in a fashion. Their bodies may live, but who they had been is irrevocably destroyed, the madness of pain wiping out all they've ever been."

Bergljot looked as pale as everyone else in the hall. "Fae murdered my family. They deserve to die in pain," and she kept looking to the ground determinedly.  
"You better execute me, goblin queen. If you don't, I might beat you to it after all. And don't you think I won't try again."

Tiernan's agitated voice rang out. "Lady Sarah, this is unbearable. The woman admits to treason and murder, be done ..."

Sarah whirled around to Tiernan who stood next to Jareth, and a look at her face, distorted in a rictus of fury, froze the words in his mouth.  
"One more word, lord Tiernan, and I swear you will spend the next year in a filthy hole knee-deep in your own shit, and I will take your voice from you for a great year, since you are obviously too arrogant and half-witted to listen to your queen's orders. Night help me, keep your bloody mouth shut or I'll sew it close for you. Do you understand me?" Her voice was low and vicious, and the threat in it cut the air like a knife.

Tiernan looked at her, his face white and shocked, and seemed frozen by the unadulterated threat in Sarah's voice, and he nodded mutely.  
Jareth smiled at Sarah with a proud, cruel smile, his queen was not to be trifled with. He had always known that Sarah could be hard as flint and cruel as the grave, fine and necessary qualities in the queen of the goblin kingdom. It was time everyone else realized as well.

Sarah turned back to the shaking dwarf woman on the dais and spoke to her in a perfectly quiet and controlled voice, not a trace of anger showing in her voice or demeanor.

"So you are telling me you are filled with rage against all fae, since they killed your family, right? You come to the goblin kingdom, and live here peacefully for ten years, and suddenly your rage boils over and you try to kill the man who has offered you sanctuary and who has given a new home and help to countless people like you. Likely story." Sarah smiled sweetly at the woman and then turned to Jareth.  
"The day before you were poisoned you had dinner with several courtiers from Matagamon and the ambassador Féilim Ó Súilleabháin from Ardar Iforas. Bergljot prepared the desserts. Now, the Matagan fae aren't exactly known for their belief in equality of the kindreds, or their kindness. And for politeness sake, let's not even go into ambassador Ó Súilleabháin's reputation." Sarah smiled maliciously at the nobles from Ardar Iforas at the back of the dais. "And yet, all live."  
She looked at Bergljot with a speculating look. "You do not dine alone very often, goblin king. Yet she waited for one of those nights. The dishes that contained the poison were specially made for you, in exactly the right amount to make sure that there would be no leftovers. She took no risk that anyone would eat of the poison but you alone, goblin king. When you were poisoned and I finally remembered where I had heard about Dragon-arum, and went to look for her, I found her in her room, well locked. She has but little magic, but she used it all to put a basic silence spell on her room. When I broke in, she was in much worse shape than you were, goblin king, she must have taken the poison well before you did. She was shrieking mindlessly in unspeakable pain. Who would choose to die like this?"

The crowd in the market hall listened in rapt attention. This was not an ordinary court day for sure.

"You did not try to kill the goblin king from hatred, lady Bergljot," Sarah looked at the small dwarf woman who had turned ever paler at her words. "Why did you poison him?"

"I don't care what stupid stories you tell yourself, human. I hate all fae, and I wanted to kill the king, and if I ever get a chance I will do it." Bergljot's hands gripped her arms until her skin turned white, and her face had a desperate cast. "You better kill me while you can."

Sarah looked at her pleadingly and bit her lip before she spoke again. "Lady Bergljot, I do not believe that you poisoned the goblin king of your own free will."  
The hum in the hall got louder. "If I could spare you this, I would fulfill your wish and let you find refuge in death, but I cannot. You may well have knowledge that we need, and we must know all we can about our enemies, however reluctant I am to force you to speak."

The dwarf woman stood up straight and looked directly in the queen's eyes for the first time, and there was nothing pitiful about her now. "I do not care what you do to me, goblin queen. You may put me to torture, but I have said all that I will."

Sarah closed her eyes and her shoulders sagged, but with a determined face she straightened again. "Lady Bergljot, you suffered more pain by your own hand than I could ever inflict on you. Why would I torture your body?"

Before the woman had quite taken in her words, Sarah conjured a indigo colored crystal in her hand and threw it at the dwarf woman. It hit Bergljot and splintered into a fine fog of blue glitter that settled on her body and faded to the palest hint of blue.

Sarah stood before the accused her legs apart, like a fighter preparing for an attack, and her eyes went unfocused and her voice dark as she moved deep into the mind link to the labyrinth.  
"Forgive me, Lady Bergljot, I have no choice. You will tell me the truth. I have put you under a spell of compulsion, and you will keep your secrets no longer."

A hiss went through the room as the people in the hall inhaled in sudden shock. A spell of compulsion was dark magic indeed, and the only reason fae law did not call it a crime punishable by death is that it was near impossible to cast, and truly impossible to hold for any useful application, as it required more power than either fae or any other kindred possessed. In the underground it had only ever been used by those seduced by heart magic, when they had accumulated so much power from others that they could force people to do their bidding. A compulsion spell would force the person it was aimed at to do anything the caster asked, however abhorrent, however against their deepest beliefs, a prisoner in their own mind, watching themselves do whatever they were asked to but unable to resist in any way. When a mage crazed with heart magic was able to do this, they were powerful enough to control many minds, yet there had only ever been a few individuals strong enough to do so. Nobody had known that the goblin queen was so powerful.

Sarah's voice rang through the old Market hall, dark and rough with the power of the labyrinth, her body still, her face empty, her self deeply enmeshed with the labyrinth and its power.  
"Be still, lady Bergljot, and do not fight the compulsion. Tell me how it came to be that you poisoned the goblin king, and start at the point where you believe it began. Tell me the whole story, and leave nothing out you think we need to understand."

Without a moments hesitation the dwarf woman began to talk, her face at ease, her tense body relaxed.  
"I was a cook for lord Caoimhín Ó hAimeirgin, a kind and generous man as I have ever met, and I lived in his house in Tahat with my husband Ólafur for many years. Then Lleu went mad, and it was bad to be a dwarf in Tahat. But lord Caoimhín was kind and protected us. Despite our fears it was a time of joy, for I gave birth to twin daughters, Jódís and Unnur. Then they began to accuse the dwarves of treason, and with lord Caoimhín's help we tried to escape. We were caught before we even left Tahat. Ólafur and several other men were slaughtered as they guarded the escape of the women and children from Lleu's patrols. I went back to lord Caoimhín with Jódís and Unnur, for were could I go? My daughters were only five years old. He hid us, protected us, he was a good man. Two years we lived in hiding in his house. But then Lleu took a liking to lord Caoimhín's collection of beautiful things, and within a week my lord died screaming, from Dragon-arum, as everyone died who had something the king wanted, be it a pretty wife, or a graceful son, or a lovely garden."

"This is an insufferable insult to my king, and I will not ... " the ambassador Féilim Ó Súilleabháin from Ardar Iforas shouted angrily from the group of courtiers behind the queen, and without turning Sarah clenched her hand to a fist before her body, and his voice died in a strangled wheeze as his hands went to his throat, tearing open his shirt at the collar in a desperate attempt to loosen the invisible stranglehold on his throat.

Sarah's rough voice was leaden and cold as death, and her power pressed on all in the hall.  
"This is the absolute last warning anybody will get. The next person who opens their mouth during the interrogation will live a life of absolute honesty. No lies, no dissimulation, a life of truth. Forever. After they are released from an oubliette, whenever I might remember them. If I can be bothered." She turned slowly to ambassador Féilim Ó Súilleabháin and opened her hand, releasing the magic hold on him and allowing him to force a breath in.  
"The woman cannot speak but the truth, and she only confirms what all secretly knew: your king is a madman and murderer. I can make you speak the truth as well, Féilim Ó Súilleabháin. Tell me, how long will you live, ambassador, if you can never lie again?"  
She looked at the courtiers with a distant face, then turned back.  
"There will be no more warning after this. Shut up or pay the price." The crowded room was silent enough to hear a needle drop. "Go on, lady Bergljot."

"They brought us to the castle, into a room in the basement, but not a cell. The window was high up and small, but there were beds, and it was clean and they brought us food."  
The woman stopped for a moment, and her face looked terrified and despairing.  
"And then king Lleu and Aylmer came to see us, with several guards, fae, human, and ork. And the king looked at my daughters and laughed, and he told Aylmer it was a good plan. Then he left. And then Aylmer's face changed, and it looked like a mask until the end, and all I am sure of is that he is fae. I believe he is the man without a name. And with a word of power he bound me, and I could not move. He said I was to kill the goblin king with poison, he had a flask of Dragon-arum and he put it on the table. I said yes, of course, for I thought we might get away, and I would have agreed to anything to get Jódís and Unnur free from there. He said he did not believe me, and he put a spell of compulsion on me, my lady, as did you. And I told him that I wanted to save my daughters more than anything, more than my life, but I did not want to kill the goblin king."  
Bergljot went quiet for a moment, her face grey and sick.  
"He said I needed to understand he was serious, and true to his word. He asked me which of my daughters should live, and if I did not choose right now he would kill them both. I could not speak from terror, and he grabbed Unnur and put a knife at her throat, and I don't know why, I did not want to, for I loved my daughters equally, but his knife was cutting into Unnur's skin, and I shrieked 'Jódís'. And he bound Jódís with a word of power next to me and he did not let Unnur go."  
Tears ran unnoticed down Bergljot's face, and the pain and horror on her face was mirrored on countless faces in the crowd.  
"Unnur was only seven years old. They tortured her in ways I have never thought possible, they raped her, all of them, and my daughter screamed for me to help her until she could scream no more, and it took I know not how many hours until she finally died, and Jódís and I watched it all."  
Had Sarah not been deep in the link with the labyrinth, she might have been sick, but not everyone in the hall was so lucky.  
"The man without a name then put a spell on Jódís, and she fell over, like dead. He said do I want her to live, and I said I'll do anything you want me to, anything at all, if Jódís lives and is safe. I meant every word of it. He told me what to do, how to get to the goblin kingdom, what to say to the council when they talked to me. He said the goblin king was a weak worthless creature, too dumb to treat those like me as they deserved, and I was sure to be allowed to remain in the city. And he would send word to me when it was time to give the poison to the king."  
Bergljot looked at the queen with half-mad eyes.  
"He said that Jódís would be brought to the goblin kingdom, safe and untouched, as soon as I had done his bidding. I did not believe him. But even such as him have to abide by their blood running to the earth, and he swore a blood-oath that my daughter would sleep untouched until the day I poisoned the goblin king, and be delivered to the safety of the goblin kingdom. He said that if I betrayed him and told anyone, or did not do as I said, Jódís would die a death much worse than Unnur. He swore she would suffer pain more terrible and protracted than Unnur, and he would give her to the falin so she'd never see the other side of night."  
The slight woman took a shivering breath.  
"A sennight before I put poison in the goblin king's food I woke up and he stood in my room. He said it was time, and he left a flask of Dragon-arum in my room. He told me that my daughter would be brought to safety as soon as he learned that the king was sick."  
The woman hugged her body in despair.  
"The goblin kingdom has become a better home than I ever had in Ardar Iforas, and I did not want to kill the king. But I had no choice. I could not let my daughter die like this. I would do anything to spare her this fate."  
She looked at the goblin queen with bleak despair written all over her face.  
"I always will do anything that man asks me to until I know my daughter is safe. You cannot trust me, lady Sarah. I wish no harm to lord Jareth or you, and none here have ever treated me with anything but kindness, but if the man without a name ever asks me to do something, I will do it unless I know that Jódís is safe."  
And Bergljot stood before the goblin queen, and hopeless tears ran over her wretched face.

Sarah began to stir, moving out of the deep connection with the labyrinth and looked at the crying woman. She seemed on the verge of speaking, but she bit her tongue and with a complex gesture in the air she broke the spell and for a moment the dwarf cook stood bathed in indigo light. "Forgive me, lady Bergljot, I needed to know the truth."  
The goblin queen looked ashen, but her voice was strong and clear.  
"I will now give my judgment against the lady Bergljot, who stands accused of trying to murder the goblin king."

The tension was palpable in the market hall, as the accused woman's story had moved and horrified her listeners.

"You have lived over a decade in the goblin kingdom, lady Bergljot, and you have been a good friend of many oathbound. While I do not believe that you have learned anything the man without a name can use to his advantage, I cannot be sure, and neither could he. And as you pointed out, lady, you cannot be trusted for as long as your daughter's whereabouts are unknown, for you would do anything if you suspected, or perhaps just hoped, it might help your daughter."  
Sarah's face was white and tense.  
"You acted under duress when you poisoned the king, and I do not consider you an assassin but a victim. There are not many who would have acted differently from you, and luckily I don't know any of them."

Many heads in the crowd were nodding at the queen's words.

"However, you remain a threat to the goblin kingdom. We cannot let you leave our demesne, for fear that you know something that could be used against us, but neither can we keep you here, as you are too much of a danger, even against your will. Yet my duty is to my people and my demesne, even if you should pay the price, and unfairly so. So I will leave the choice of your fate to you, lady Bergljot."  
Sarah was proud that her voice did not waver.  
"These are your choices, my lady Bergljot. You may choose death, and I promise you that it will be swift and without pain, and you will be buried with honor. I swear to you that we will search for your daughter Jódís, and when we find her she will be treated with naught but love and consideration."  
Sarah halted for a moment and collected her thoughts.  
"But as you said, even the man without a name is bound by a blood-oath, and he swore your daughter be delivered to safety in the goblin kingdom as soon as you had given the king the poison." She smiled at Bergljot.  
"So your daughter is somewhere in the kingdom, lady, and you can find her, if you choose the only way you will ever be free again. For this is your other choice. I will bind you to the land forever, lady Bergljot, and you will live you life as a free woman within its borders until the day of your death. But you will never be able to leave the goblin kingdom again, and you will ever be part and parcel of the land itself, your presence known to me and to the goblin king equally. You will not be able to hide from our eyes and you will never be able to shield knowledge from us."  
Sarah looked at the woman before her. "Will you choose a useless death, or will you live to search for your daughter, lady Bergljot?"

An unbelieving, wavering smile grew on Bergljot's face as she half-turned to the goblin king. "But I tried to kill you, majesty, and I inflicted terrible pain on you."

Jareth stood up and moved next to Sarah, and bowed to Bergljot. "I live, lady, and like the queen I cannot find that I condemn you for what you did. Intent matters, sometimes more than the deed itself. You did not wish for my death, you did not plan it. You were but the dagger used to cut short a life - we do not destroy the blade for the deed of the assassin. Live, lady Bergljot, and find your daughter. And when you have found her, and you have found peace, come back to the goblin city."

Bergljot's face was disbelieving as she fell to her knees before the goblin king and the goblin queen. "I know I cannot save my Jódís if the man without a name has been lying to me. But I trust you, my lieges. I shall be glad if you can make sure I can never do again what I never wanted to do in the first place."  
She bowed her head and ripped a fingernail over her arm, tearing the skin, and her blood dripped to the ground as she spoke the oath of allegiance.

Both Jareth and Sarah moved into the mindlink, their minds close to each other within the labyrinth, never touching but intimately conscious of each other's presence, and they picked up the trail of the new blood tie of Bergljot to the labyrinth. Among all the threads of life in the labyrinth they found her, and they braided the tiny filament of her soul into the very core of existence of the labyrinth, until there was no telling where one began and the other ended.

Sarah swayed slightly as they moved out of the mind link, and she held on to Jareth's arm and to his strength with a desperate grip. The spell of compulsion drew not only on power but also on the spirit of the caster, and Sarah felt as if she had not slept for a year. Bergljot looked at them with joy and wonder in her eyes, some of her pain soothed in the binding to the labyrinth. Jareth smiled at her, then turned to the back of the dais, the goblin queen on his arm turning gracefully with him.

His voice was cutting and cold, his eyes glittering with malice and darkness.  
"We have learned all we need about Ardar Iforas and what it stands for. Those of our visitors from Lleu's demesne who have no personal responsibility for misdeeds may stay in the goblin kingdom, and swear a blood oath to the queen and me. You have until sunrise tomorrow to do so. I declare herem all of you who will not swear obeisance by that time, and it will be my pleasure to hunt you down and kill you personally if you are still in the goblin kingdom."  
The loathing and anger in his voice left no doubt of his sincerity. It was not only ambassador Ó Súilleabháin but a uncomfortably large part of the nobles of Ardar Iforas who left the market hall in a hurry, their heads low and their eyes refusing to meet the disgust and fury in the faces of all whom they passed.

Jareth turned his head to Sarah who still held on to him like dear life, and he did not think she would be able to keep herself on her feet much longer. He turned to the queen's shadow who stood faithfully behind her.  
"Nehorai, please make sure that Ikiaq looks after Bergljot, I would like to speak to the woman in the castle as soon as possible. Then come to the queen's rooms as quickly as you can."  
He didn't wait for Nehorai's bow and turned to Sarah mockingly. "Ah now, Sarah, do not ruin such a perfect performance by fainting."  
Without waiting for an answer he scooped up in his arms and transported both of them into his rooms in the castle.

* * *

Sarah was too exhausted to put up a fight, and she had to admit, if only to herself, that it was ... nice to be held like that, but of course she spoke up anyway. "This definitely doesn't look like my room, goblin king. Wrong tower." She wiggled experimentally in his arms, which only made his hold tighter.

He looked down at her with a grin on his face. "I would advise you not to move against me quite so much, Sarah. Pleasant as it is, I doubt you want to give me any ideas, now do you? If I am wrong, by all means, continue."

Sarah just hoped that the heat in her face was not a violent blush, and she made sure not to move a muscle as she replied hotly. "Damn it, goblin king, let me down. I am sure I can make it to my rooms."

"I doubt it, for you look ready to fall over, Sarah. Ikiaq would never forgive me if you were wrong and actually fainted on the stairs. Otherwise I would follow your demands, of course. After all, your word is my command."  
He carried her easily through hallways and staircases, and Sarah thought it was rather pleasant to feel light as a feather. Nobody in the above had ever even tried to do carry her like this since she was a child, for at six foot she was no lightweight. She thought the best she could have hoped for in a human man would to be hoisted over the shoulder like a sack of flour, which was not even remotely as attractive. It seemed the fae's superior strength could come in handy occasionally.  
She decided that for once she would plead weakness and leaned her head against Jareth's shoulder, her right hand clutching his lapel. As unobtrusively as possible she inhaled his scent, and she shivered when his hair tickled her forehead. With a slight start she realized that she did not wear her formal robes any longer but a soft chemise, but she was too exhausted to really care. The next thing she felt was being gently lowered onto her bed and she woke fully with a start, her grip tightening on the Jareth's lapel. As she looked up in momentary confusion, she felt his strong heartbeat under her hand and saw his head, rather too close to hers, and who knew what might have happened had he been able to keep his mouth shut, as impossible for him as it ever was for her.

"I am happy to see that you are loath to let go of me, Sarah. Is this an invitation, my dear?" he purred so silkily it woke her up, all the way down to her toes.  
Nothing could have brought her back to her senses more effectively. She let go of his coat with a squeak.

Jareth stood up with a wicked smile on his face. "I missed my chance, Sarah, did I not? I should have kissed you awake from slumber, and you would have been mine forever. Or was that a different story?"

Sarah smiled at him, glad for the reprieve. "I don't think you qualify as Prince Charming, goblin king. I believe he was as virginal and innocent as the princess, and I figure neither of us can lay claim to either adjective."

Jareth nodded in amused agreement. "Thank the night you are right, my dear. I have left behind these words longer than I can remember, and I have not missed them once in all the years."

Jareth turned to Eek, who was standing unobtrusively at the door and called him over. "Keep an eye on the queen, Eek, and do not let anyone but Nehorai and Ikiaq into the rooms while she is asleep. Nehorai will be here shortly, and more goblins will guard the tower. Until all from Ardar Iforas who have blood on their hands are gone, nobody may see her. Anyway, she will be asleep."

Sarah looked at him testily. "You do realize I am right here, all awake, don't you?"

He scrutinized her reflectively. "But not for long, my dearest Sarah. You are exhausted."  
His face was serious, and for once there was no trace of levity in his voice. "You are all any demesne could wish for in a ruler, my lady. The labyrinth chose more wisely than I understood at the time. You are powerful and ruthless, Sarah, and your judgment is just and cold-blooded. I have ruled the goblin kingdom for longer than you can imagine, and you did as well today as I could have, and maybe better."  
He smiled at her. Sarah was more flattered than she had thought possible. Jareth was arrogant, overbearing, and he was a sarcastic bastard, but he had never lied to her. She thought, somewhat uncharitably, that it was probably beneath him.  
"You will have to teach me the spell of compulsion, Sarah, as I have never known anyone use it before whom I'd be willing to ask, even if they were alive. Where did you find it?"

"It is something Sindri said about forcing the truth out of people that go me thinking, and I started reading all I could find on it in your library. It wasn't a lot, but the labyrinth and I kept trying out all possibilities we could think of, and we got it right, finally."  
Sarah looked at him a bit sheepishly. "You should thank Nehorai, you know? We kept subjecting him to all our fledgling attempts on the spell of compulsion we could conceive off, and I doubt it was pleasant for him. Scratch that, I KNOW it was awful. I doubt I would have put up with it, but Nehorai let me go on and on. Now I know all the dark and dirty secrets of his misspent youth, all the secret crushes on some pretty girl or other who did not deign to ever notice him, and all the bad words he used outside of the elders hearing. "  
Sarah grinned and yawned massively. "You have the most amazing grimoires, goblin king. You should try to read them one of these days."

Then she looked at him, and her eyes clouded." Although I do not believe I ever want to use the spell of compulsion again. It is like rape, Jareth," and her face was grim and without humor.  
"I could feel her terror all the time, and her despair of being made to do what she did not want. It is a dark spell, and if this is how the man without a name gathers his magic, he is beyond salvation. And yet ... you heard what she said, he put a spell of compulsion on her, as did I. What is the difference between us, then?"

Sarah was turning her face away from Jareth, but he leaned down and his hand took hold of her jaw as he forced her to face him.  
"You are the queen, Sarah, and you did what you had to. You did not ask her anything but what we needed to know, and if you hurt Bergljot, she has brought this pain on herself, by her own actions. Your spell set her free, Sarah, not tortured her. You did not act from cruelty and viciousness, and Bergljot knows that. My lady, sometimes we must do what we hate, as you have learned to your pain. Find comfort that you do not revel in it, and you are as merciful as you can be. There is nothing a ruler can do but try to be just, Sarah. You have done the labyrinth and me proud, my sweet," and he kissed her lightly, gently on the lips, and stood up quickly before Sarah had a chance to gather her scattered wits about her, and she stared at him like a wild-eyed doe.  
"Sleep now," and with his graceful gesture she felt sleep beckon her irresistibly, and before she could say anything she felt her eyes close, and she gave herself over to the abandon of sleep.

* * *

Some four hundred erstwhile subjects of Lleu from Ardar Iforas from all over the goblin kingdom swore the bloodoath to the goblin king and the goblin queen, and fifty of them had been at court. Yet more than eighty of the nobles from Ardar Iforas had fled the goblin kingdom after the court session, and they had all managed to escaped unscathed but for three of them who had fallen prey to white Babdh in the borderlands. It was the only time that Jareth looked at the carnage without pity in his heart when he circled the bloody ground in his owl shape.

The goblin queen's interrogation of Bergljot and the goblin king's subsequent declaring herem all from Ardar Iforas with blood on their hands had wide-ranging consequences in the underground. Lleu and the fae of Ardar Iforas found themselves isolated as all demesnes followed the goblin kingdom's example and dismissed those that would not swear a blood oath releasing them from Lleu, for however self-serving and blinded the fae might be, they were none of them accepting of behavior as vile and unforgivable as Lleu had proven capable of.

Sarah and Nehorai did not leave the goblin city for another week, although Nehorai had to tell her point blank that he would tie her to her bed if necessary, but he was not going out on the road with someone still as weak as she. This worked a lot better than the goblin king's attempts at curtailing the queen's departure, as Sarah was perfectly willing to do the opposite from what he desired. Yet after Nehorai's threats Sarah rested another sennight, and despite all pretenses she enjoyed her days in the city.

As the days passed in the goblin city, Sarah was glad to realize that the goblin king had returned to the easygoing friendship they had developed before he had been poisoned. He finally seemed to understand that she needed the freedom of the road as much as he needed the demands of ruling, although that did not stop him from trying to postpone her departure. Yet when finally the queen declared she would be leaving the next morning, he accepted her final decision gracefully. He knew he could not delay her any longer, for the road called out to her. And when he gave the goblin queen a long list of things she needed to be on the lookout for as she traveled the kingdom, she looked at him cheerfully and forgot his words as soon as he had uttered them. And at sunrise Sarah and Nehorai left her quarters through the door that led to the small house in the lower city, and Eir and Ankimo yoked Lazarus to the caravan, and their journey began again.

* * *

Between the settlements, Sarah and Nehorai traveled the roads in their wagon without disguise. Early on Sarah had learned accidentally that she saw countryside differently through Sarah's eyes than through Eir's, and Nehorai had corroborated her observation. It seemed a Hundun's sensory experience left a lot to be desired, and Nehorai preferred to see reality through his own eyes. However, whenever they came towards the villages and farmsteads, they shape-changed into Eir and Ankimo, as they did when Sarah's warning spell alerted them on the road that kindred was near. They only used sign-language when others were around as well, for the spell of silence had so become part of Sarah's magic that she did not even realize she constantly kept it up any more. And they traveled the breadth of the goblin kingdom, and Sarah and Nehorai finally wended to the western reaches and saw the wonders of Ikh Bogd Uul; they made their way through the fens and shared their night fires with hags, the quicksand alive with sand snakes; they traded for finely made tools in Joensuu in the Simien mountains; and the months passed quickly. Sarah was glad to see that life for her people had become easier than it had been, as the warrior mages from Annwyn and Danu had hunted down many of the strange beasts that wreaked havoc on her people and the roads in the borderlands were safer than they had been, but wherever she went, still she heard stories of oathbound found dead for no reason, and the labyrinth told her that their life force had been stolen.

It was a moon to Lughnasadh when they finally reached Sevenoaks, a village at the banks of the Haliakmon, two or three days from the Plains of Ashes. The bells on Lazarus' harness tinkled merrily as Three and Shuck ran ahead to the village. About three hundred people lived in Sevenoaks, mostly fae, though some of their mates were human, several Puka families and even five ork families. More than fifty children lived in the village, an occurrence that had become much more common since the goblin king and the goblin queen had begun giving the wished-away children only to those who supported the goblin kingdom, and this was the cause of much joy for many families. By the time the caravan stopped at the commons in the middle of the village, shaded from the afternoon sun by the seven oaks that gave the village its name, it seemed as if half of the children had found their way onto the wagon and on the laps and shoulders of both Eir and Ankimo. The Hundun was an especial favorite with the youngsters who were fascinated with him and were touching and admiring the riotous feathers that covered Ankimo's featureless head, and he suffered the children's curiosity with great forbearance, for he loved children and never tired of their antics.

When Eir and Ankimo climbed off the wagon, they were heartily welcomed by the village elders, it had been months since the dwarf trader and her Hundun companion had last visited Sevenoaks, and the healer's visit had been anticipated. Some of the younger folks had already unhitched Lazarus and led him to the corral on the commons to graze with the other horses and asses. They pulled the wagon towards the large granary to keep it dry, and safe from hungry animals for the night. As Eir and Ankimo turned to follow some of the women about to take them to the communal baths, they heard a man's voice cry out their names.

"Eir, Ankimo, what are you doing here?" and the surprise on Eir's face changed to joy as she turned and saw Toby come up to them with a broad grin on his face, the direwolf at his side. It goes without saying that Cuchulain reached her first and was all over her before she had the time to protect herself from the wet tongue he dragged enthusiastically over her face before he pushed his snout into her skirt pockets. By this time Three and Shuck joined the mad welcome dance and Eir found herself crowded by a direwolf and two dogs all yipping and sniffing at each other while trying their best to make sure they would get some attention from her. When she had finally calmed down the excited animals with pets and treats, she saw Toby and Ankimo busily signing away at each other, and Toby seemed to be acting as interpreter for some of the elders. He interrupted the conversation, however, when he saw Eir walking up and with an utter lack of respect he picked up the old dwarf trader and kissed her hello. Eir embraced the young fae warmly before he set her down again.

"I could ask you the same thing, Toby, and with more justification. A trader obviously ends up in settlements all over the goblin kingdom, but why would one of the king's war councilors be here? Sevenoaks does not exactly seem to be a first-strike target for an invasion."

Toby explained. "I am here on a mission from the king. I do the same thing I have done all the while - I travel from border settlement to border settlement to organize our people. Nobody will attack the goblin kingdom, so I do not have to worry about defense, although it would cut any war rather short. However, I am learning more and more about the truly astonishing ways how you can decimate an enemy when you fight outside of the goblin kingdom, and I make sure our people learn about all of them, should we need to call on them. And I help organize the teaching, so everyone can learn how to fight if they want to. Several of the men and women here are excellent archers, and their skills would be most helpful should we ever need to fight."

He sounded enthusiastic and eager, and Sarah hoped that he never needed to find out firsthand the price of war, the terror of bloodshed and violence. She herself only knew war from reading and the TV, but she had shared the Labyrinth's terrifying memories of loss and pain, and she had experienced the death of too many of her people from violence since the attacks on the oathbound had begun, and she had seen too many victims of Babdh in the borderlands. The goblin queen hoped with all her heart that there would never be a need to go to battle, for she did not believe in the nobility of battle, only the necessity of it if there was no other way.

Out loud, however, she said nothing, for Toby did what needed to be done. "So you are telling me that you already left behind your Tailltean wife? Heulwen of Carmarthen, is it? What did she have to say about you absconding a few short months after the hand-fasting?"

Toby answered readily, and the smile on his face proved him as smitten as any wife could hope for. "Jareth was not so cruel as to ask me to leave her so soon. Instead he ordered her to accompany me on this mission. She has a sharp eye for fighting talent, and she is a better teacher than I'll ever be. I actually believe this excursion was even more successful than the ones I took in the past with Tiernan." He winked at her. "And it was a lot more fun. However, a sennight ago we split up, for I still had to come to Sevenoaks, but Heulwen wanted to get back to the goblin city to spend time with her friends before they leave. The Carmarthen fian will be stationed at the border to Matagamon. Since the Matagan fae have decided to throw in their lot with us, white Babdh has begun to haunt the roads between the demesnes, and she is slaughtering travelers. At this point, only large caravans travel to and from the goblin kingdom any longer, and Jareth feels the mage warriors from Annwyn may be able to hunt down Babdh." He looked at Eir questioningly. "Where are you going from here, Eir?"

"Ankimo and I want to go back to the goblin city, we have been away for over a year now, and I think it would be nice to spend the winter in our own house. We were planning to spend a sennight, perhaps two, here in Sevenoaks. The monthly market day is the day after tomorrow, and we should be able to sell much of our goods and buy what we need. And when people go home after market day, they will spread word that the sick can come to a healer here, so we should have plenty of work for a while," she said happily. "I have never been to the Plains of Ashes, so we will stop there for a day or two before we go on to the goblin city, but we should be back there before Lughnasadh ."

"I was planning to go home for Lughnasadh myself, I should be done in this area in a sennight or two. What do you say, Eir, do you think Ankimo and you could put up with my company for the trip back to the city?" Toby looked at her questioningly, and Sarah was not surprised that Heulwen had fallen for him so easily, for who could resist his innocence and honesty?

"We would be glad to have you, Toby, especially if you are a decent cook. Ankimo and I are good enough to keep us alive, but neither of us can produce food that we actually want to eat."

Toby laughed. "It's a deal then, Eir. You will not regret it, I was not bad before I traveled with Heulwen, but now I can safely say I am an excellent cook."

One of the elders came up to them and smiled at the young fae. "I am sure further conversation can wait until Eir and Ankimo have had a bath, Lord Tobias." He turned to Eir. "You must be tired and hungry after a day on the road, and I would be honored if you and your companion would stay in my house during your visit, Eir. The young lord has a room in my house as well. We are all curious to hear your stories, so we thought we'd meet in the tavern after you have cleaned up and changed. I know that Marten has excellent food - he has been preparing for market day for a few days now."

Toby blushed and stammered an apology, but Eir laughingly waved it off, and she bid the young man goodbye until dinner.

* * *

When they left Sevenoaks ten days later, everyone was well content. Eir and Ankimo had traded most of the goods they had brought for the market, and they had been able to buy more bolts of the fine cambric and the embroidered linen the area was famous for than they had expected.

They were sure to make a tidy profit when they sold the cloth in the goblin city, although Nehorai-who-was-Ankimo really did not give a damn. He had been the children's favorite playmate in all the time they had been there, and for him time had flown by in joy and innocent companionship.

After market day Sarah had kept exceedingly busy with a never-ending stream of patients, both kindred and animal, but to her contentment it was the usual complaints, and none were mauled by monsters or attacked by things that should not be. She had been able to offer help in most of the cases she was consulted, and if even her skill and power could not save some patients, she was comforted by the knowledge that she had given solace to those who suffered from time and age, and she had long learned to accept that even magic could not halt death.

When they left Sevenoaks, everyone in the village had ceased to address the young fae lord as 'Lord Tobias' but called him Toby, although none felt less respect. As always the young man had managed, quite unknowingly, to make friends with most anyone he interacted with, as his unjudgmental and honest fascination with all he met won over even the sourest and most unforgiving of dispositions.

Sarah recalled one conversation she had overheard when a crotchety old puka lord tried to dress him down. "Don't you get tired of your puppy ways, young man? You're a bit too old to be so innocent, so why d'you persist in pretending everyone is a nice chap?"

Toby had blushed like a much younger man, but he answered the old puka courteously and without hesitation.  
"That's what the goblin kings tells me as well, I am too silly and too trusting, like a puppy, lord Eochaid. Yet I have not fared badly living my life as I do, so why would I change? I know well that in all kindreds there are those who would use me and who would lie without hesitation, but among all the many people I have met in my life, those have been exceedingly rare."  
He smiled shyly at the old man. "I know that my ways grate on people's nerves sometimes, but I do not push, lord Eochaid. I do not force myself on any who have made it clear they think me useless. Of course it bothers me, as I think they are wrong, but they have the right to their opinion."

The old man looked at him with a half-smile. "You risk much, boy, assuming everyone wishes you well. Someone like me will probably not end up trying to kill you, Toby, but I might laugh at you behind your back and talk about you with disdain."

Toby looked at him with a smile in his eyes. "I am home, my lord Eochaid. I have never been as open in foreign demesnes, but here we are in the goblin kingdom. You are oathbound as am I, so I know that even if you don't like me, you are sworn to the labyrinth and you would not murder me just because you don't like me. I know you are someone I can trust when it truly matters, even if you think I am silly and useless. And you know, even my friends have laughed at me behind my back sometimes, and sometimes I even deserved it, so why would I mind? I know I am not the kind of person to inspire awe like the king does. Most people are what I think them to be, and I am right far more often than I am wrong in judging people, lord Eochaid. I truly believe that most everyone I meet knows something I would be well advised to learn."  
He hesitated for a moment, but then went on doggedly. "I have just reached my majority, lord Eochaid, and what do I know of life compared to one as you? One of the lads told me you were one of the king's councilors when he negotiated with Ardar Iforas after the border clashes. Then, you risked not only your reputation but your very life on an idea that proved true, though you could not have known."  
He looked at the old man with admiration writ large on his face. "How could I not want to talk to your, Lord Eochaid? I don't really care if you are nice. You are courageous, brilliant, and you have had a full and honorable life. I could not possibly take offense that someone like you does not think highly of me, for why would you? I still will feel proud that you deigned it worth to talk to me at all."

The old puka spent the rest of the night talking to the rapt young fae, and Sarah knew that Toby had made himself another friend without truly understanding why. She could see that the old man had melted completely after these utterly innocent words, for how could anyone resist absolute honesty? Toby did not lie or obfuscate, as he had somehow never learned how, but his willingness to believe made those he offered his trust to more honest and willing to trust him. Sarah thought that Toby was an object lesson in how to win friends and influence people, for his was not an act but absolute honesty. She wished she had his trust in people, for strangely enough he was disappointed less often than she was, as the vast majority of people ended up doing what they could to earn his approval. Toby brought out the best in people without ever expecting them to be good, for his innocence and trust were hard to disappoint by anyone than the most jaded.

* * *

Yet once they traveled towards the Plains of Ashes, she found it increasingly difficult to have Toby share their caravan. It was nothing to do with his presence, which was a accommodating as always, nor his cooking skills, which proved as superior as he had promised. But she and Nehorai found themselves bound to their shape-changed forms as dwarf and Hundun, and both of them longed to experience the Plains of Ashes in their own shape. As they got closer to the plains, she ended up discussing matters with Nehorai after she had sent Toby to hunt for dinner.

"Toby is a friend, Sarah, whether you are the goblin queen or the dwarf trader. He would be surprised, but if you distrust him, you could just as well distrust me. He can keep a secret, Sarah, and he has been as courteous and kind to your shadow Nehorai as he ever was to Ankimo. And let me tell you, Sarah, I don't much care to visit the Plains of Ashes as Ankimo - I mean, what's the point?"

* * *

So Toby sat between Eir and Ankimo on the driver's seat the next day, and very nervous he was, for he was innocent, but he was not stupid, and he could feel that something was up.

"Now, Toby, I must know if you can keep a secret. I have to tell you something that needs to be kept between us," Eir asked as forcibly as she could, all the while trying to not scare Toby into promising something he did not want to.

"You are my friend, Eir, and I have no doubt that you would not ask me anything dishonorable. But forgive me, your request strikes me as exactly the thing Jareth would warn me against. It even sounds like something YOU would advise me to think over. I can keep a promise, but I am oathbound. I am not implying that you would ever ask me to hide anything that could endanger the goblin kingdom, but how can I promise anything without being sure?" He looked at Eir with an apologetic face.

"I would never do anything to endanger the labyrinth," Sarah said rather shocked, completely forgetting that Eir would not know about the labyrinth since she was not oathbound as far as anyone knew.

"How do you know about the labyrinth?" Toby's voice was suddenly sharp and wary, and his hand had slipped his dagger.

Nehorai-who-was-Ankimo laughed, unheard by Toby.  
"Well done, Sarah. I don't think you have a choice any more. He's not a councilor for nothing. Unless you want to lie to him outrageously now and then have to face Jareth about an hour after we reach the goblin city, you better come clean."

"Night, I am not going to turn into the man without a name all of a sudden, Toby. You can take your hand off your dagger," Sarah said sourly. Nehorai was right, she had talked herself into a corner.  
"All I need is for you to keep you mouth shut to the goblin king about who Eir is. And trust me, that's not treason, considering." And she winked at the suspicious and tense young fae and changed from the dwarf trader to her human form.

Toby's mouth fell open as he looked at the goblin queen next to him on the coachman's seat, and a gargle escaped his mouth when he turned to Ankimo and saw a shedim sitting next to him on the other side.  
"But ... but... how can .. what is... are you really ..." he stuttered disbelievingly, and when he felt the confirming mind-touch of the labyrinth, he buried his head in his hands. It took a while for him to gather his wits enough to face Sarah again.  
"Of course I will keep your secret, lady Sarah," he said with as much dignity as he could muster.  
He looked at Nehorai and managed to force a smile onto his face. "But why did you disguise yourself, lady Sarah? And why tell me now?"

"Come on, Toby, you know better than to ask such a silly question. A human woman and a shedim traveling the goblin country would have been bound to raise some suspicions, don't you think? And now, that the goblin queen is known, how else could I ever travel and just be a trader and a healer?" Sarah was in a much better mood, now that she felt certain that their secret would remain one.  
"But an old dwarf trader and a Hundun, who would suspect that we were anything but what we seemed? I like being just another nobody, like everyone else, and people treat me like one of them, they come to me with their ailments and their gossip, and I don't even have to pretend that I have manners and tact. Truth be told, I think Eir is who I am on the inside. I miss my Sarah-body sometimes, but I could not live my life as I want to unless I shape-shifted." She smiled at the young fae who seemed to be slowly calming down.  
"By the way, Toby, Nehorai is under a spell of silence, so you don't have to worry about his voice. He can hear everything anyone says, and he talks to me, but only I can hear him. So he will talk to you in sign-language, as he always has." She looked at the shedim affectionately.  
"The shedim are my friends, they welcomed me to the goblin kingdom after the binding, and they have accepted me generously and without guile. Nehorai has been the first friend I found here. He saved my butt more often than I like to admit, and never bitches about my temper or my manners. How can I not love him?"

Toby turned to Nehorai and looked him over very carefully, and a slow smile grew on his face. "I never would have thought that I'd ever sit next to a shedim. I don't know why, I always assumed that they would look terrifying in the flesh."  
He grinned suddenly. "Night, I think I am at least two heads taller than you, Nehorai."

Nehorai returned Toby's grin with his own and sign-talked to the young fae. "It seems I don't need to be tall to terrify a fae warrior. You looked plenty fearful just a moment ago, and I just sat there. Understand, Toby, shedim are not monstrous, and we are sworn to the labyrinth, as are you."

Toby hesitated for a moment, then answered with his characteristic honesty. "The Audreys are bloodsworn. Yet none would ever think the Audreys anything but monstrous, oathbound or not."  
He put his hand on Nehorai's arm. "Children are frightened by stories of your kindred as they grow up. There are only stories of terror and fear about you, Nehorai, and nobody has ever met a shedim, and learned better."  
He gave the shedima bright smile. "And to think that I won't be able to tell anyone that one of my friends is shedim. You know, I rather like being able to see your face now, Nehorai. The queen's shadow was ever such a forbidding creature, and Ankimo never had a face that could express anything. But while your face is certainly different, I can actually see some of what you think, as if you were any other kindred."

Sarah was astounded. She could not really imagine that anyone else would have taken the revelations of the last few minutes as well as Toby had. His youth, his enthusiasm, his friendship with Ankimo, and his absolute acceptance of the labyrinth and all it encompassed must have a lot to do with it, but she doubted Nehorai would find acceptance as easily in any other eyes. She was glad, however, for she could see her oldest friend bask in the young fae's attention, as he had never known friendship as himself but among his own kindred and Sarah.  
"And Toby, you cannot tell Jareth anything about this," Sarah impressed on him once again.

"I promise, lady Sarah, I will not. But don't you think it would be safer to share your disguise with him?" A look into the goblin queen's face convinced him that this idea did not find favor with her.

"The labyrinth keeps me safe enough, Toby. You know as well as I do that the goblin king is a meddling and overbearing man. I like living my life as I want to. He is constitutionally unable to leave well enough alone, and I shudder to think what he would do with this information. Try his best to stop me, likely." Sarah's mouth was set in a determined line.

Toby thought that in these matters the differences between his lieges were incremental at best, but he knew better that to say it aloud. Neither of them would have believed it. As he turned his head to hide his expression, he caught Nehorai's wink and they both had to fight the sudden urge to laugh.

Their journey became much more enjoyable for all of them afterwards. Free from their disguises, Sarah and Nehorai were able to enjoy the countryside, and Toby's relaxed, accepting ways fit in easily with their own companionship. The young fae had some initial problems how to address Sarah, for while he had always been courteous and respectful to the dwarf trader, he had bantered with Eir and treated her like an equal. To his chagrin he found it impossible to change this when the goblin queen treated him exactly the same way as Eir ever had, and Sarah was glad when he finally gave in and went on as before.

"At least now I can understand why Cuchulain has been so accepting of Eir from the first, Lady Sarah," he said dryly after the direwolf and her dogs once again tried to sit on top of her at the night fire.

Sarah pushed the animals off her lap until they finally came to lie with their bodies pressed against hers. "Animals always seem to instinctively come to me. Now, I would not want to run into any of the terrors that have been stalking my people in the last years, as I doubt they are from the goblin kingdom and they probably would just look at me as another dinner on two feet, but all that belong seem to recognize me."  
As soon as she had moved the animals, however, a crowd of goblins descended on her, and she relaxed under the familiar burden of goblins sitting on her shoulders, on her lap, playing with her hair, opening her shoe laces and pulling her dress while she unconsciously started to pet and groom them. The goblins began chattering away at her as they always did, telling her what they had encountered, and one of them mentioned that he had seen a pod of Heqet sunning themselves at the banks of the Haliakmon, deep in the Plains of Ashes. Both Toby and Nehorai stilled for a moment and then besieged the little goblin with urgent questions about where that had been.  
Sarah listened on, surprised at their insistence, and finally she could restrain her curiosity no longer.  
"The Heqet can be found on the banks of many places, you know. I have seen them at the Naryn, and at Leaping Waters. They are great story tellers, nearly as riotous as the goblins, but I can't for the life of me see why you two should be so desperate to find them. A pod of gossipy frogs doesn't seem the kind of thing a shedim or a fae would die to meet."

Her friends looked at her with wide-eyed astonishment. "You have talked to Heqet, lady Sarah?"

"I just said so, didn't I? What is so special about them that you can't wait to find them?"

"They are a most reclusive kindred, Sarah, and most of us have but heard of them in stories." Nehorai went quiet for a moment.  
"You know, we have but few children in the underground, rarely ever more than two, but often only one child, and many couples are barren. Yet the Heqet have powerful fertility magic like none other has, Sarah, and any who has an amulet from them is assured of children, and there have been those who had many."

Sarah saw a fierce hunger flash over the faces of both Nehorai and Toby, a reminder of the powerful love and desire all kindred in the underground had for children.  
"Well, we will be going into the Plains of Ashes tomorrow, so I am sure Nawk here will gladly lead us to the pod, won't you, little one?"  
She tickled the little goblin's stomach, and he fell to the ground giggling, utterly overjoyed that the queen was paying attention to him, and wanted him to do something for her.  
"Nawk lead lady to Heqet when she want, always, always," he babbled happily, and Sarah fed him a piece of bread and pulled his little body close, and a while later he and Eek began begging Sarah to sing for them. While she was singing old ballads for the spellbound goblins, Toby began to pepper Nehorai with questions about the shedim as he made the most of the unexpected opportunity he had been given to find out about a reclusive kindred nobody knew much about.

"So the Shedim are cursed forever with the madness their voices cause?" Sarah overheard Toby ask at some point, and she finished her song to listen to the conversation.

Nehorai answered him with heavy gestures and a low voice. "We have been cursed since the beginning of time, Toby, and the only release we were ever promised in an ancient prophecy is an even worse curse."  
Sarah closed her eyes at the pain that only she could hear in her friend's words.  
"There is no hope and no freedom for the Shedim."

He looked at Sarah. She returned his look, and with tears in her voice she recited the curse out loud for Toby to hear.  
"The Shedims' voice will be heard when friend sacrifices friend, and heartblood runs red to the ground. And the price for their voices will be their freedom, and they will be bound until the end of time."  
She held out her hand to Nehorai, who took it in his and held it tight for a moment before he released her and turned back to gesture to Toby.

"The Shedim have been hunted and despised in the underground since we first walked among the kindreds, and all we ever had is ourselves. Love and friendship are the most important ties among my people, and the idea of betraying a friend is unimaginable. My people have died for each other, to protect those they loved at any cost, but no shedim has ever killed another. We are not planning to start, for nothing at all is worth murder." He smiled sadly at Toby.  
"The prophecy is a cruel joke anyway, for what is it worth to be heard when you are imprisoned forever? We are not searching for release, Toby, we have accepted our fate. My people have found sanctuary in the mists, and it is a life better than any we had before."

Toby bid them goodnight not long after, but Sarah and Nehorai sat next to each other at the fire for a long time, with goblins crowded on and around them as always, and they spoke to each other about nothing important, and they found comfort and joy in each other's company as always.

* * *

The day promised to be beautiful when they set out to explore the Plains of Ashes the next morning, the sky a deep turquoise, with no clouds to mar its perfection. They untied Lazarus, who needed no tether, and led him to a field of sweet grass before they set out, and Sarah cast a spell of concealment to make sure that none would raid their caravan in their absence. For a moment she debated with herself if they should bring the dogs along, but when Shuck ran off suddenly to chase some invisible squirrel, she decided that she did not feel like searching for him as he did the same in an endless sea of grass. While Three was an clever and easygoing companion, Shuck was too impulsive, und not really smart enough, to be trusted for long outside one's view in tricky territory, and Sarah did not even want to consider what he might be up to in the Plains of Ashes. He did not want to, but he tended to get lost and it had cost her hours before to find him again. So she placed a spell on them that convinced them that their mistress was asleep in the caravan, and they promptly laid down for a nap in under the caravan themselves, and Sarah knew they would happily laze away the day, as neither of them ever strayed far or long from where she was if they could help it. Cuchulain looked at the departing group and at the dogs sleeping under the caravan and joined the sleepy group in the shade. Only two-legs would be dumb enough to walk in the heat when they could doze in the shadow.

Sarah was surprised how obvious the change-over was as they crossed the small side-stream that branched off the Haliakmon, delineating the border to the Plains of Ashes. The pale-gold grass grew on the plains as far as the eye could see, undulating in citrine splendor over small hillocks and shallow valleys until the pale shimmer merged with the horizon. The grass was at least five foot tall, yet it was not like grass at all but shimmered in an unearthly glow like nothing Sarah had ever seen before. The long blades were at least a hand's width at the bottom, all color long bleached out of them, and each frond was shimmering as if was cut from palest citrine. At the top of each frond was a spike of seeds that grew in perfect symmetry around the top of the blade, each seed fat and redgold as the moon when it rose on the horizon. When Sarah tried to casually break off a blade to take a closer look, she found she could not.

Toby's voice broke through her surprise. "This grass cannot be destroyed by anything but foxfire, lady Sarah. You can cut at the blades with your sword, be it cobalt or iron, and they will not budge. The grass on the Plains of Ashes grows young and green as emerald early in the cycle, but now it has reached the end, and the seeds are waiting for the fire to ripen into the next cycle."

Sarah was about to ask him what started the fire when a sudden rustle on some fronds caught her attention, and to her delight she saw a small animal with pale-blue fur, the size of her hand, clamber up to the seed pod. It wasn't anything she'd ever seen before, and Toby began to describe to her and Nehorai the kind of creatures that made their home in the plains as they walked enchanted through the endless expanse, and hours passed unnoticed.

"What do they do when the fire comes?" Sarah asked curiously.

"All that lives here either has wings to fly away, or hides out the conflagration in the depth of the earth, for they all live in burrows deep in the ground. Not all of them will survive to see the next cycle, but most will."

Just then the blades opened to the banks of the Haliakmon, and its sapphire waters sparkled in the sunlight, river dolphins breaking through the surface as they made their way upstream, and a soft breeze cooled down the hot midday sun burning on the wanderers' heads.

Without hesitation the three decided that this was an excellent spot to rest and eat, and they settled on the sun-warmed bank and companionably shared their provisions, and as always they were soon surrounded by a passel of goblins. When they were rested, Sarah called the little goblin Nawk to her, and he began to eagerly tell her that the pod of Heqet was sunning itself only a little further upriver, and if the lady just came with him, he would lead them right to them.

Toby and Nehorai had packed up the remains of the lunch in a moment, and they set off upstream, Nawk proudly on Sarah's shoulder. After some thirty minutes Sarah could see a pod of twenty, perhaps thirty Heqet sunning themselves on the wide water lily leaves growing at the riverbank. They were hard to miss, as each of them was about eight inches long, and near as wide, their huge heads making up near half of their entire length, and each Heqet needed a leaf of its own. Their bodies were covered with fine round warts, and small triangular eye horns grew up over the back of each prominent eyelid. Their backs were irregularly striped in pale brown and green markings, while their throats were dark as night. They made an impressive racket. Sarah called out to them in greeting, and as they recognized the goblin queen, the pod stayed were they were and let their visitors come up to them.

"Well met, lady Anippe, lord Jafari," Sarah bowed politely to the pod as they came up to the Heqet.  
"I hope you are as well as I am," and with a squealing voice two of the Heqet returned the queen's greetings. Neither Nehorai nor Toby could see any difference between them and the other Heqet.  
"Let me introduce my friends to you," Sarah sat down on the bank before the lily leaves and gestured towards Nehorai.  
"Nehorai here is under a spell of silence, so you will not hear his voice, but he is my companion and my friend, oathbound, and he would never inflict pain on anyone."

"I did not know Shedim walked outside the mists," the Heqet whom Sarah had called lady Anippe squealed. All Heqet looked Nehorai over curiously, clearly not frightened, as the presence of the goblin queen vouched for his trustworthiness. Nehorai bowed deeply before the Heqet and greeted them politely in sign-language.

"Nehorai is greeting you and expressing his pleasure at being able to meet such honored kindred as you," Toby translated his signs and bowed deeply as well.  
"I never dreamed I would meet Heqet myself, my lord Jafari, lady Anippe, and I am honored beyond words," and Toby smiled at them wide-eyed.

"This young man is lord Tobias O hEachtianna, a councilor at the goblin king's court, and a good friend of mine," Sarah introduced Toby to the pod.

A staccato wail in greeting went up in unison from the pod, but the unison sound broke up after a moment into a cacophony of individual voices that drew them all into a conversation in a short time. Toby sat down next to Nehorai and translated for him. Sarah talked animatedly to lady Anippe and lord Jafari, but after a while she politely excused herself since she was minded to explore the plains and its creatures alone for a while. She got up quietly and looked amusedly at Nehorai and Toby, who were deep in conversation with several or the Heqet.

* * *

Sarah walked aimlessly through the deep grass, marveling how the sun reflected off their crystalline sheen. She managed to lure several of the creatures inhabiting the Plains of Ashes to her, admiring their strange beauty while the animals seemed to forget about their inbred enmity in the presence of the goblin queen, and predator and prey were both content to be admired and fed scraps from the queen's hand, without acknowledgement of each other. Suddenly Sarah looked up and cocked her head - what was that? She strained her ears, and there it was again, closer this time. It sounded like nothing she had heard before, a melody created from tinkling bells and distant children's laughter, the very essence of exultation. Unnoticed, the animals she had fed vanished quickly in the grass. As Sarah stood listening, she saw a flash of red from the corner of her eye, and turned her head to a bird jubilantly diving from the sky in the distance. The bird dove into the rustling grass and flew up again, cavorting joyfully over the shimmering expanse. As it drew nearer, Sarah knew it was the most beautiful bird she had ever seen. It was much bigger than she had ever thought a bird could be, with a wingspan of at least six yard, perhaps more, its slender, long-necked body not quite a yard long. When it was less than a stone-throw away, Sarah saw it fully in all its splendor, and it took her breath away. The long, curved beak was the color of a rose, it's soulful amber eyes large and liquid, the head and neck feathers shaded in palest yellow, and the plumage of its graceful wings shimmered in a thousand shades of gold. The bird's resplendent tail was comprised of long, exquisite feathers in vermillion and gold, edged in pure light. Sarah stood transfixed as the bird danced in the air around her, circling around her spellbound form in ecstasy and singing its joy in the still air for she knew not how long. When she reached out, the bird flew so close that her hands touched its feathers, and they were shivering with magic. The bird called out a merry greeting to the goblin queen, and with powerful beats of its wing it gained height quickly and flew away from Sarah, towards the heart of the Plains of Ashes.

After this Sarah felt that she had seen all she could take in for a day, and she turned to walk back to the Haliakmon. On the way she saw something shimmer on the ground, and she picked up a flight-feather the bird had lost, rose-gold and edged in vermillion. She admired the feather, and then she remembered that Eek had given her a gold-and-vermillion tail-feather once, long ago when she still had been in the above. She would put them together, Sarah decided, and she stuck the feather to the inside of her overdress to protect it from dust.

* * *

When she came up to her friends, she first heard their laughter. Like the goblins, the Heqet were gossips and excellent if raucous storytellers, and most of their stories were not fit for polite company. When Sarah sat down between Toby and Nehorai, she caught the tail-end of some juicy story about a water nymph and a selkie in the Leaping Waters, and she wished she had heard all of it.

However, before she could ask, lady Anippe addressed her. "Nehorai has told us of a dreamsong that recreates the cycle of life in the space of a song. We would be in your debt if you would sing the song for us, majesty, as unfortunately we cannot ask him."

Sarah looked at Nehorai. "How about it then, Nehorai? You know I am not firm enough in the shedim dreamsongs without someone backing me up."

The shedim grinned at her and scooped up a handful of earth from the ground, and Sarah did the same. And while none but Sarah could hear his voice, she relied on him to guide her through the Ode to Earth and Water. Sarah sang with Nehorai as the Shedim had taught her, and wild magic shimmered around them. The earth in the hands of the singers began to move, and green sprouts began to poke out from the dark soil as the song of power washed over it. In the span of the song grass and herbs grew up from the earth, and they flowered and seeded, and died with the song.

The Heqet had sat as spellbound as Toby. "It is the greatest misfortune to the goblin kingdom, and the whole underground, that we cannot hear the Shedims' songs from their own lips," Anippe said as quietly as a Heqet could.  
"We will remember the Shedim dreamsong forever, lord Nehorai, and your stories will live with my kindred. We are grateful that the queen has honored us and introduced us to you. Tell your kindred that they have friends among the peoples of the goblin kingdom."

Nehorai's eyes were glittering, for this was a great und unexpected gift indeed, and he bowed deeply to the Heqet.

The lord Jafari sat on the lily leaf closest to the river bank, and he jumped on the ground and waddled up to the Shedim. He coughed up a pale green stone with strange symbols carved into it and spit it out onto the ground before Nehorai. Then he turned to Toby.

"We have been pleased to meet you, Toby," and Sarah thought amusedly that it had taken less than two hours for the Heqet to drop the formal 'Lord Tobias', a new record, "and we look forward to seeing you again. I am sure we will have many stories to share, and we thank you for your company."

Then all Heqet turned to the goblin queen and bowed as deep as their squat bodies allowed, and Sarah bowed back to them.  
"As always it has been a pleasure to meet you, lady Sarah, and we thank you for your company today, and for the new friends you introduced us to." And with these words the Heqet jumped into the cool waters of the Haliakmon and swam off.

When Sarah turned back to her friends, she saw Nehorai hold the green stone in his hand and stroke it reverently. He smiled sadly at the amulet and took Toby's hand in his, and put the stone gently into the young fae's palm.

Toby looked at him stunned. "Are you mad, Nehorai? They gave this amulet to you, as a token of their friendship. It is not mine to take, and I don't want it," he said as he tried to give it back.

Nehorai held his hand up for a moment and began signing. "I do not need the amulet, Toby. I had a son, Shai, and I never wanted any other. He was all Chanina and I had ever hoped for. But Shai and Chanina are dead. We Shedim mate for life, and I will not have another wife or child."  
He smiled at the young fae who looked at Nehorai with tears in his eyes. "The Heqet look at my people with favor now. I do not want more."

He gave Toby a shove. "However, you and Heulwen could really do your part in reducing the demand on Sarah's and Jareth's child delivery services. Why waste such a precious amulet on me? I mean, even if I wanted to make use of it, I never have the opportunity. The goblin queen relies on my presence, and while I love her dearly, she just lacks in just about anything I find attractive in a woman."

He winked at Sarah, who glanced at Toby and then noisily proceeded to tear into her friend, berating him for his lack of taste and whatever she could come up with on the spur of the moment until Toby had managed to get a hold of himself.

The young fae cleared his throat and smiled at Nehorai. "Thank you, Nehorai. This is a priceless gift, and one I don't deserve. Yet I will accept your generosity gladly, and if both of you will allow me, I will tell Heulwen about who gave us such a precious gift," and he quickly embraced the surprised shedim, who returned his embrace gladly.

Sarah looked at them happily. "Heulwen is a most sensible young woman, trustworthy, honest, and she is true to her word. Ask her to keep quiet about Nehorai's identity, and then you are welcome to share the story with her."

She held out the hand to Toby. "Give me that amulet for a moment, will you?"  
The young fae gave it to her without hesitation.

"I have no use for such a thing, it be as wasted on me as on Nehorai, but I think this stone would be rather difficult to carry around and be sure not to loose."  
Sarah turned the stone in her fingers, then she gathered her magic and concentrated hard. The amulet in her hand began to shimmer as a finely ornamented mounting of white gold began to braid itself around the stone, securing it firmly, and it attached itself to a long, finely plaited necklace that materialized on her palm.  
Sarah looked at her handiwork rather self-satisfied before she handed it to Toby. "The necklace will shorten itself around your neck to fit perfectly, and only you yourself can take it off. You may give it to Heulwen, and it will be the same for her."

Toby put the necklace over his head, and as it hit his chest it began to shrink until the stone lay snuggly in the hollow of his neck. Before he had a chance to say anything, Sarah turned away and began to walk back into the sea of grass.

She called to them over her shoulder. "If you would like to make it back before nightfall, we should get going, so come on, both of you."

* * *

They were an hour on their way when Toby suddenly stopped. "It is eerie, don't you feel it? It seems there is nothing here but us," he said. "Nothing moves on the ground, nothing flies in the air, where are the animals?"

Sarah looked around for a moment. "I know I called a lot of them to me when I walked in the grass earlier, but they ran away when the bird came, and I never thought of them again."

Toby had visibly paled at her words, and he looked at her urgently. "What bird, lady Sarah? Can you describe it?"

Sarah looked at him confusedly, then she picked the feather from the inside of her overdress and handed it to Toby. "A beautiful red-golden bird like I have never seen before, near half as tall in body as I, and singing the most joyful melody."

Toby looked at her with his eyes nearly bugging out, his skin as grey as ash. "Oh night, the Phoenix has come home," and in his urgency he grabbed Sarah hard by the arm. "You can shape-change into a bird, my lady, and so can Nehorai, right?"

Sarah and Nehorai looked at him with rising dread. "I can change, but I don't think Nehorai ever did. What is wrong, Toby?"

The young fae looked at her with disbelief on his face, and the fear in his voice cut into them. "Oh my queen, don't you know? In the heart of the Plains of Ashes is the Phoenix' death pyre, and it's been nearly a great year since the last cycle began. You saw the Phoenix fly to its roost, to immolate itself to be reborn. It will burn itself on the pyre, and it will set the Plains of Ashes on fire to begin the new cycle. We need to get out of here immediately, lady Sarah, or we will die. No magic in all the worlds can protect us from foxfire, my queen, not even the labyrinth."

Sarah whirled to Nehorai, who looked at her with horrified eyes.  
"You need to leave now, Sarah. I have never changed to anything but Ankimo, and that won't help us at all. Shape-changing is not easy, and I cannot learn it in a minute. If you love me, Sarah, you will go NOW, there is no time to loose." Nehorai held her by the arms and shook her.

Sarah turned to Toby and ordered curtly: "Change to your bird-form, Toby, and fly up. Call to us when you see a flame, I will see what I can do."  
The young fae looked at her with terrified eyes, but he turned into a sparrowhawk as told and flew as fast and high as he could.

Nehorai was near tears as he begged her to leave him, but Sarah didn't pay any attention.  
"I had no bloody clue about shape-changing either when the labyrinth turned me to Eir, so shut up, Nehorai. I know you can't change, but I am pretty sure I can change you. Now be quiet, I need to concentrate."  
And she gathered her magic and pushed the increasing panic in the labyrinth's mind away from her, and she cast a spell on Nehorai as best she could under pressure. His outline became uncertain and began to blur, and for a moment his shape vanished in a haze of light and movement, but then he rematerialized in his own body.

**YOU ARE OUTSIDE MY REACH, CHOSEN, MY MAGIC EXTENDS NOT BEYOND MY BODY. SHAPE-CHANGE YOURSELF AND COME HOME TO ME NOW.**

_No. I will not just let Nehorai die. Can you think of anything that would let me tap into your power? I will not need much of it, I very nearly could change him myself._

**I KNOW NOT.**

Sarah felt the labyrinth's despair through her mindlink.

**LET YOUR BLOOD SEEP INTO THE GROUND, I MAY BE ABLE TO REACH YOU THROUGH BLOOD MAGIC.**

Sarah shouted at Nehorai to shut up and let her think, and with magic cut her arm, and her blood dripped to the ground. Sarah called on the labyrinth's magic with all her strength, and finally she could touch its power, if weakly only, a small stream very far away, just a shadow of the labyrinth's full magic, but she drew from it with all her strength to augment her own power, and Nehorai dissolved in movement and feathers. A moment later Sarah looked despairingly on a small, black-capped bird sitting on the ground before her, looking utterly befuddled.

"Night, that's not going to help. I doubt a chickadee can outfly foxfire. How will this help us?"  
She bent down and gently picked up the tiny bird. She suddenly grinned, if grimly, at the shaking little thing.  
"On the other hand, you weigh practically nothing, Nehorai. So listen carefully. I will change to my gull shape, and I want you to jump between my wings at the shoulder and hold on for dear life. Do you understand me?"

The little chickadee frantically nodded, and as soon as she had set the tiny bird onto the ground, Sarah changed to a sea gull. She could feel the chickadee's light body settle between her wings, and she felt his sharp claws tighten around the feathers of her neck as he huddled as close as possible to her body, his head buried in the feathers of her neck, his beak touching her skin. Sarah took off as smoothly as she could, and she was slowly climbing higher when she heard the sparrowhawk's urgent ke-ke-ke shriek in her ears. For a moment she turned her body to the heart of the Plains of Ashes, and in the distance she saw a blinding white fire with a red and golden shape writhing in its heart, and green foxfire began to spread over the Plains of Ashes. She turned and fled as hard and fast as she could, away from the Phoenix' pyre, conscious of the sparrowhawk close to her. Sarah could feel the shaking body of the chickadee pressed against her as he held on desperately while the powerful beating of her wings threatened to dislodge him.  
Sarah rose higher and higher into the air, and when she looked down she saw the eerie greenish glow spread slowly over the grass below, and it moved as fast as she and Toby did. The sight filled her with unexplainable dread, and Sarah flew faster and stronger than she ever had before.

Suddenly she felt the slight weight on her back shift, and the pain of a few feathers on her neck being torn out as the wind ripped Nehorai from her back, sending him tumbling from the sky. With a screech the gull turned with a near impossible twist of her body and frantically searched the sky below her with her sharp eyes, ready to turn back and fall closer to the ground if necessary.

Yet at that moment the sparrowhawk cut right before her, and as she looked at him she saw that he safely held a chickadee between his powerful claws, and while the tiny bird look ruffled and wide-eyed, it was held safely and gently. Sarah cawed at Toby and they both turned back towards the goblin kingdom and flew with all their strength. The ominous green glow had covered all of the plains by now, and from the behind Sarah could feel warm air. She turned her head for a moment, and her breath froze in her chest when she saw the glow behind turn from green to red, and further back the plains seemed consumed by a white fire that burned like the end of times.

The air turned increasingly choppy and restless, small eddies of hot air bubbling up and Sarah and Toby were not able to glide the thermals under their wings any longer, but had to beat their wings constantly to keep themselves in the air, and as their bird-shapes were not build for this, they exhausted themselves quickly. Sarah flew closely ahead of Toby to allow him to stay in her wind shadow, but the heat on her stomach and back became stronger and stronger until she thought it could not be much longer until they'd spontaneously combust midair.

**

* * *

YOU ARE SAFE CHOSEN.**

The air suddenly stilled and cooled, and she felt herself glide easily on a thermal and the labyrinth's relieved welcome echoed through her mind. A quick look behind her assured her that Toby was right behind her, and Sarah pulled her wings to her body and fell like a stone from the sky, catching herself close to the ground, and she landed easily. She turned herself back into her human shape and stood on wobbly legs for a moment. When she heard the ke-ke-ke of the sparrowhawk, she looked up to see him hover in the air before her, and he dropped the chickadee into her cupped hands before he landed and shape-shifted. Sarah sat down heavily and looked at the shaking bird in her hands. She did not think she had the energy to change him back, but to her unending gratitude it was not necessary, as the magic of the labyrinth touched his small shape as she set him on the ground between her and Toby, and changed him back to his shedim form. For a moment the three exhausted friends looked at each other with faces empty of all emotion, then they held on tightly to each other, and tears ran down their cheeks, washing pale lines into the soot on their faces.

"How was I to know about the Phoenix? I've never seen it, and nobody ever said anything that connected it to the Plains of Ashes. I didn't even ever think about the name," Sarah said tiredly as they all walked back towards the caravan.  
"Nehorai did not know about it either, and he's been around a lot longer than I."  
Behind them the Plains of Ashes burned a brilliant white, edged in red as far as the eye could see, yet the conflagration stopped right were the goblin kingdom began, and even the smoke that covered the evening sun did not spill over.

"I don't think Nehorai has seen much outside the mists unless he was with you, lady Sarah. And you are the goblin queen, so I just assumed you knew." Toby sounded any bit as exhausted as she felt, and his voice held no accusation.

"Story of my life," Sarah was too glad to be alive to even pretend anger.  
"If it's outside the goblin kingdom, there's a good chance I don't know about it, Toby. Even within I may very well not, but at least the likelihood of dying because of my ignorance is a lot lower when the labyrinth's magic can fully reach me. Do try to keep this in mind, will you?"

Nehorai sounded as weary as they did. "I don't care who should have known or done what, I will be eternally grateful to both of you. I was quite sure I'd just seen my last day, and I would have but for both of you."  
He grinned. "I admit, I had rather hoped for something a little more impressive than a chickadee. Yet I doubt I would have been able to fly in the first place, and I certainly would never have outflown the foxfire. And I don't think you could have carried a bigger bird on your back, Sarah, nor could Toby have held anything much heavier."

As they talked they slowly came up to the meadow where the caravan stood, and from the distance Three and Shuck came running up. Sarah walked to the back of the caravan, climbed in stiffly and banged around inside, then returned with a large flask of water and wooden cups. Nehorai and Toby eagerly grabbed them and Sarah filled them to the rim. She drained her own quickly and yawned at the men.  
"I don't care what you two want to do, but I am not hungry, and I don't care that I am filthy and stink of smoke. As far as I am concerned, the sun has set and I'll go to sleep now."

Toby grinned at her, his teeth shining white in his sooty face. "I don't know that you can say the sun has set, lady Sarah, it's only vanished behind the wall of smoke from the Plains of Ashes. Close enough for me, though, I rather agree with your general sentiment. Will you throw down my blankets? I think I'll sleep under the caravan, it's a warm night," and Toby caught his bundle easily as Sarah threw it to him from the caravan.

She held out her hand to Nehorai, who looked at the climb into the back with an unhappy face.  
"I can pull you up, or you can join Toby under the cart. But make up your mind, I don't think I can fight sleep much longer."  
Nehorai put his foot on the back of the caravan and held out his hand to Sarah, and with a hard pull she dragged him up into the caravan.

Within minutes all movement in the wagon had ceased, and Cuchulain and the dogs had draped themselves around Toby, asleep in his blankets already, and nothing but the animals' sleepy whimpers could be heard in the dusk.

* * *

Sarah woke as the sun rose over the horizon, and she climbed out of the caravan slowly, stretching carefully. She grimaced. She could not remember the last time her back muscles had been so sore, she felt as if she could barely lift her arms. Ah well, wings, arms, what did she expect after yesterday's exercise? With a word of power she started a fire in the fire pit before the wagon and hung a pot of water over it. As she grabbed her wash bag and some fresh clothes in the wagon, Nehorai sat up and yawned.

"I can only hope that I look better than you do this lovely morning, Nehorai. You are a fright, like something the cat dragged in."

The shedim laughed at her. "I hate to disappoint you, Sarah, but you are enough to give a child nightmares yourself. Can you get some fresh clothes for me as well?"

As Sarah collected more clothes for all of them to change into, Nehorai climbed out of the caravan and woke Toby with a light kick, and when the young fae yawned at him, he began to signal.  
"We are going to the river to wash up, and you better join us, Toby. I don't think Sarah will feed you unless you look presentable."

When they finally sat down around the fire an hour later, they had taken a long bath in the Haliakmon and scrubbed all soot and smoke off skin, hair and feathers, and getting into clean clothes had rarely felt better. Now, with a cup of larak in the hand to wash down a heaped plate of eggs, bread and fruit, they did not talk much at first.

"You know, lady Sarah, there are cleaning spells that we could have used yesterday," Toby said as he poured himself a second cup of larak.

"I did not have the energy to throw water on my face," was Sarah's answer. "What makes you think I could have put together a spell? Anyway, that's not a spell anyone has ever taught me. And I am far more interested in spells that can help with sore muscles, as I am not sure that anything Hina'ea taught me is really applicable for that."

Toby grinned and cast a healing spell for both himself and Sarah. As the pain left her back and shoulders, she groaned with relief, and like Toby she stretched like a cat.

"How about you, Nehorai?"

"I didn't fly, Sarah, so no sore muscles plague me."

"Why the night were you so tired then yesterday? You passed as soon as your head hit the pillow."

Nehorai laughed. "Fear is much more exhausting than you can imagine. At least you and Toby were busy flying. All I did was look behind me at the fire and imagine how it would roast me."  
He turned to Toby with gesticulating hands. "It did not look like any foxfire I had ever seen before. At the beginning the plains were burning green as foxfire does, and I have also heard of red foxfire which followed the green flames. But that white fire that consumed everything reminded me of the mists, for it had the color of the cauldrons of creation."

Toby seemed unsure. "Please understand that I was not yet born when the last cycle began, so I have no personal knowledge of the fire that consumes the Plains of Ashes. But it was explained to me that when the Phoenix alights on its pyre, the killing flames start the green foxfire to spread over the plains, and as the bird dies, the red foxfire follows. The foxfire cannot consume the grass yet it burns away all dross and impurity, and prepares the seeds for the final ripening. As from the ashes in the pyre the Phoenix gets reborn in ecstasy and pain, the white fire of its re-birth spreads over the Plains of Ashes and burns everything but the seed to ash, consuming all in its way. It is said that nothing can escape its destruction."  
Toby contemplated Nehorai's words. "I have never been in the mists, but they say that all creation begins in there, from wild magic. It might explain why nothing can withstand the white fire of the Phoenix' rebirth, for he is a creature of wild magic, and it would make sense that the white fire is wild magic unbound."

"I will ask around when we get to the goblin city, I am sure someone can answer this," Sarah mused thoughtfully.

"I am sure that Jareth knows," Toby said eagerly, but Sarah was having none of it.

"No Toby, you will not ask Jareth! Remember what we had agreed to before I told you who I am? There is no need to tell the goblin king that you were here with us when the Plains of Ashes burned down. Actually, there is no need to mention this episode at all."

Toby was not convinced. "But what will you tell Jareth?"

"Nothing. Why would I tell him about this? It has nothing to do with him."

"Even I could feel the labyrinth's panic, lady Sarah, so he knows that something went amiss."

Sarah swore from the bottom of her heart.

"Why won't you tell him, lady Sarah? You did nothing wrong, and it would explain what happened."

"Listening to you, Toby, one might assume that the goblin king is a reasonable man." She looked at him sourly.  
"He keeps trying to run my life, and you have no idea how tiresome that can get. Quickly. Unfortunately the goblin king is of the firm conviction that the goblin queen should be ensconced in the goblin city, sitting as pretty as she can. He is not a fan of free-range queens."  
She smiled maliciously. "At least he won't dare to spy on me ever again, he won't risk the consequences. However, he is a manipulative bastard, and much as I hate to admit it, he is bloody smart. The more he learns about me, the better he gets at playing me. I have long found that the best course of action when dealing with Jareth is not to offer anything without being asked, and never admit to anything until I can't deny it any longer. The less he knows the better."  
She grinned at her friends. "I am not planning to change plans when this one seems to be working."

Nehorai looked at her with some exasperation. "Give the man a little credit, Sarah. He is worried about you, and to judge from today's little adventure, he has some reason to be. You are gone for months at a time, and the labyrinth keeps absolutely quiet about where you might be or how you are doing, because you ask it to. You could just tell him occasionally, and he might get off your back."

Sarah glared at him, her face set in a stubborn cast that told him his words were pointless. "Or he might not. I cannot risk that. And my whereabouts are none of his business anyway. Yes, yesterday was unfortunate, but there is nothing either I, or Jareth, or anyone could have done to avoid it. Unless of course you put me in a nice tower and make sure I won't leave it ever again."  
She looked at Toby and Nehorai challengingly. "Life is inherently dangerous. Yes, I could get hurt on the roads, I might be killed, for I would not be the first goblin queen who had an accident, or was attacked. Yet if I even said that to Jareth, he'd do his best to make sure it won't happen. I don't care to spend my every waking moment in the city trying to fend off his attempts at stopping me from leaving again, nor on the road worrying about what he might be up to in order to 'protect' me. It is my life, and I don't take risks unless I absolutely have to. Living the life that the goblin king feels is right for me, I might as well be a potted plant."

Her friends did not meet her eyes. Sarah might be overstating her case, but not enough to make it possible to disregard her reasoning. The goblin king did have a strongly protective streak, and it seemed to come out rather pronouncedly where Sarah was concerned. They had to admit that Sarah just might be right to guard her independence, even if she overshot to an extreme of secrecy.

* * *

The weather was warm and beautiful as they made their way towards the goblin city in the next days. Sarah, Nehorai and Toby had joyfully cultivated the friendship growing between them, and the days on the road passed quickly and companionably, and their evenings around the fire passed with much storytelling and laughter.

A few days before they reached the goblin city they made their camp in one of the sanctuaries, and after they had eaten dinner, Nehorai leaned back comfortably against one of the sanctuary trees and smiled at Sarah.  
"Sing us some of the songs from the above, Sarah. I would love to hear the one about the faerie queen and the knight, the one your mother taught you."

"You are a hopeless romantic, Nehorai. I doubt that you'd ever ask me for songs from the above had I been a fan of hard rock. Thank the night that I know songs that actually stand a chance to find favor in the eyes of my friends."  
With a laugh Sarah got up from the fire and went to the wagon. When she came back a few moments later, she carried a well-oiled instrument case and reverently took out a beautiful lute. The short neck was of shimmering blackwood inlaid with ivory, the top the color of old cherry wood with three impossibly intricate carved roses, and the deep back had a subtle stripe pattern of pale woods. She sat at the fire and while she was tuning the strings, the whole clearing began to slowly fill with noisy goblins. Yet as soon as Sarah began to play, they went as quiet as they could as Sarah raised her voice.

_"I forbid you maidens all that wear gold in your hair_

_To travel to Carterhaugh for young Tam Lin is there_

_None that go by Carterhaugh but they leave him a pledge_

_Either their mantles of green or else their maidenhead ... "_

Toby listened as spellbound as Nehorai when Sarah sang the old ballad. When she finished, he smiled at her with glistening eyes.  
"My mother used to sing that song to me when I was small," he said quietly.  
"She had a lovely voice, a bright soprano, if not as rich as yours, lady Sarah. She loved this music and sang it to us all the time. Do you know 'The Deserter'?"

Sarah looked at him questioningly. "The one about the lad 'a-walking down Radcliffe highway' and deserting the army twice?" When Toby nodded, she began to play her lute and sang the song.  
When she had finished, she turned to him again. "I thought these were traditional songs from the Above. Nehorai had never heard any of them before, and neither had my goblins."

Toby answered easily. "Not my mother here, the one in the Above. I was not born to my family in the Underground."

Sarah was surprised. "I never knew that, Toby, you always seemed the very personification of a fae to me. So you were wished away?"

Toby laughed. "Yes, and no, lady Sarah. My sister wished me away when I was but a babe, but she ran the labyrinth for my return and brought me back home. She told me tales of the Underground, and as you can imagine, a young boy would well remember this kind of story. When I found myself in need years later, I remembered some of what she had told me, and I cried for the goblin king to take me away."  
He went quiet for a moment, memories like dark shadows flitting over his face. "Then Jareth showed up, like a nightmare, but he was the nightmare of the man who took me. Jareth took me as I had asked, but there was none to win me back this time, so he gave me a new family, a new life in the Underground."

As Toby was talking, the dogs pushed up to Sarah, whimpering, and licked her face, and when he looked he saw that tears were running down her face.

Both he and Nehorai looked at her in alarm. Nehorai put his hand on Sarah's shoulders and spoke to her in unheard words, and Toby looked at her in distress.  
"Forgive me, lady Sarah, I did not mean to disturb you ...", but Sarah dragged her sleeve over her eyes and sniffed determinedly while she calmed the dogs down until they laid down pressed close to their mistress.

"There is nothing to apologize for, you said nothing wrong, Toby." A muscle in her jaw tightened when she spoke his name.  
"Do you remember what I told you when we first met, Toby? We all have memories that sometimes may cause us a moment of anguish. Your words just reminded me of my own brother. When my little brother went missing, my mam Karen and my da were ... I just wished ..." and her voice trailed off when Toby clasped her arm and asked sharply.

"Karen? Why do you call your mother Karen?"

Sarah took in his pale face, and her heart skipped a beat as she looked at him intently. She choose her words carefully. "Karen Williams was not my birth mother, she was my father's second wife. She was my little brother Tobias' mother. I wished Toby away when he was a babe, but I won him back."  
Nehorai looked from Sarah to Toby and a smile spread slowly over his face.  
"Yet when Toby was nine, he did not come home from school one day, and we never found a trace of him again."  
Sarah voice died on the last words, and she looked at the young man who stared at her disbelievingly, bright tears running down his face.

"Sarah?" the young fae's voice held nothing of her little brother's voice that she remembered, and his features were all fae, heartbreakingly beautiful and inhuman. "Is it really you, Sarah?"

"Oh Toby, ... we thought you were dead," and her voice broke on her words. Then she jumped up and her lute slipped unobserved off her lap, saved from a fall by Nehorai's quick hands. Sarah threw herself into Toby's embrace, and she held on to the reality of his body with all her strength. Cuchulain, Shuck and Three became quite overexcited by the strong emotions swirling about and barked incessantly, jumping around Sarah and Toby who were oblivious to anything but each other, and it was generally a most undignified reunion.

When they finally let go of each other, Nehorai sat smiling broadly at the fire, and he had brought a bottle of firewine and three cups from the caravan.  
"It is very rare for any who came from the Above to find blood ties in the underground," he sign-spoke to Toby, and the joy in his voice only added to Sarah's pleasure.  
"Let us drink to things loved and lost, and found again." They all drank deeply from their cups, and when Sarah looked at her brother and her friend, she could not imagine being happier.

"You know, Sarah, when I first saw Eir's dogs, I thought how much Three reminded me of Merlin and that I never had seen his like in the underground before, but I thought nothing more of it," Toby said later, when the animals had calmed down completely and slept at their feet.

"I always had English sheep dogs after Merlin, and I actually was idiotic enough to call them all Merlin. As you can tell, this naming convention did not really work out for me. I took my animals along when the labyrinth brought me home. They are the only family I had left, or so I thought." Sarah was glad to see that he seemed sad to hear it, but not unduly so.

"Do not think me callow, Sarah, but it has been very long that I came here, and I love my parents in the underground. Humans are so short-lived, and I have long known that my birth parents must have mourned me, lived their lives, and died. I never thought I would ever meet anyone from my past again, and I have long made my peace with it." He looked at her with slightly guilty eyes.

"I don't think you're callow, Toby. Mam and Da would have been overjoyed to know you live, Toby, and they would be happy to know you have a family you love. There is no reason to feel bad."

They sat at the fire for many hours that night, and the bottle of firewine that Nehorai had brought was not the last one they drank. Nehorai had thought to leave them alone early on, but Sarah would have none of it. She smiled at her friend and her brother and told them that her family ties were of love, human and shedim and fae, and if Nehorai thought of getting out of it, he'd better think again, for she had no intention of letting him escape. They sky was already turning grey when they finally stumbled to their blankets, and they never managed to leave the sanctuary the next morning. When they finally came to at midday, they wisely decided to postpone the final bit of travel to the goblin city to another day, when they felt better, and spend the rest of the day in hung-over leisure and conversation before they went back onto the road the next morning.

* * *

They split up two days before their destination, much against Toby's vocal objections, but Sarah would not be dissuaded. "Nehorai and I have to shapechange to Eir and Ankimo again, the roads are filling up as we get closer to the city, and it will just raise questions if you travel with us."  
Toby could not understand why this would be a problem.  
"Night's sake, Toby, think. I suspect you'll want to share the happy news about meeting your sister with Heulwen, and I imagine Ikiaq and Jareth, do you not? Jareth is more curious than a cat, and a lot smarter. He'll want to know when we met and how we found out that we are siblings, and he'll ask how come we split up again? So unless you have a better idea, this is our story: we met on the road before Sevenoaks, after you parted with Heulwen, and traveled together for two or three days before we parted ways because you needed to go on to Sevenoaks, and we were headed to the goblin city. How we found out about each other is how we found out, there is no need to change anything."

She smiled at him. "Do not mention Eir at all, just say you left Sevenoaks a sennight later than you actually did, and you were never even close to the Plains of Ashes. If Jareth as much suspects that you have been there, he'll get the story out of you. You stand no chance against him, little brother." Toby grinned crookedly, but he had to admit that she was right. "You don't know what Nehorai or I were planning to do, but I promised you I'd be at the Lughnasadh ball to stand by your side when you married Heulwen."  
Sarah thought the story over and figured it was good enough.  
"One thing to remember, Toby. Don't go into any details about our time together but keep it short, just talk about us, what we talked, how you like Nehorai, that kind of stuff, then you don't have to lie. You're useless at it anyway. Stay away from all embellishments and just talk about how happy you are. If you feel as I do, Toby, you should be gushing embarrassingly enough to nip any further inquiries in the bud."

"I do not want to lie to Heulwen, Sarah," he looked at her pleadingly.

Sarah looked at him with narrowed eyes. "I should certainly hope so, Toby. Lying to your wife is not the way to live your life, and she'll skin you if she catches you. But Heulwen is honorable and trustworthy - do you think I would ever let you tell her about Nehorai if I did not trust her? And if she can know about Nehorai, I do not care what you tell her about me. She knows that what you tell her is between man and wife, and she is no gossip. I will be glad to have her as my sister-in-law."  
She winked at him. "And I'll help her skin you if you give my secret away to Jareth, so no pressure, Toby."

Finally he agreed to Sarah's plan, however reluctantly, even though he had no better idea, and he turned to a sparrowhawk. He held on tight to Sarah's leather-clad hand.  
"We will see you in a few days time in the goblin city. Fly strong, brother. And tell Heulwen that I make a better sister-in-law than sword fighter."  
And with a final goodbye she threw him in the air, and with a shrill ke-ke-ke the little hawk flew towards the goblin city.

* * *

After Toby had come back to the goblin city, the town had been abuzz with gossip about him, for everyone knew and liked the young fae. Toby's home was the goblin city, and all knew his face and had a story about him, for he was one of them. The Underground knew all there was about magic and strange coincidences, and all approved of this story. Could there be a more perfect symmetry? Toby had been wished away to the goblin king by his sister when he was but a babe, yet she won him back. Passionate and strong she was, if not always wise. Yet later she lost him for good to the goblin king, who now saved the lad from a terrible death. And then, against all odds, the lady Sarah unknowingly met her brother again, after she herself had been chosen as the goblin queen. This was a yarn that the underground would talk about many great years, for wild magic was evident in each impossible twist of the story, and it was a fitting tribute to the labyrinth where wild magic reigned.

As if to celebrate the occasion, this year's Lughnasadh celebrations were more spectacular than usual. The goblin queen had not been seen in the town or the cathe celebration itself, nearly a sennight after Toby had arrived, but once she showed up in stle until the day of the palace strange things began happening in the goblin city. The carefully folded and dressed corn dollies from the sheaves that were always prominently displayed in the harvest offerings in the city squares began to come to life and dance merry jigs around the fruit and sheaves of grain, and the dishes on the tables shared among all to celebrate the harvest seemed to increase until the tables groaned under the weight of food. As was noticed only later that night, the mead and wine in the kegs for the celebration around town seemed to have gained considerably in strength, and the celebrations turned far more raucous than they usually did, hard as it might be to imagine. And to everyone's delight after the due amount of time a lot more children were born than usual. Everyone agreed that the goblin queen and the labyrinth had blessed the celebrations in gratitude for finding the lady's brother.

Eir and Ankimo had arrived in their house in the goblin city only two days after they had parted from Toby, but Sarah figured that the less time she spend with the goblin king the less questions he could ask, and so they kept themselves busy around town and settled down comfortably in their house and did not bother to drop their disguises but went about their business as they usually did. Eir even worked the day before the ball in the goblin king's kitchens to bake cakes and breads for the celebration. Sarah spent a luxurious afternoon in her bath, and she and Nehorai were all ready and dressed before they opened the in Eir's house in the lower city that led to the queen's rooms in the castle. They grinned at each other, and with a sigh Nehorai donned his robes before they grabbed their small bundles and entered the queen's quarters in the castle though the door that only opened to Sarah and Nehorai.

* * *

Sarah looked very regal and very human in the autumn-colored robes she wore for the Lughnasadh ball. She had not the ethereal, haunting beauty of fae, whose autumn finery showed off their delicate and refined splendor, but seemed to be cast from the earth itself. The wheat wreath in her hair shimmered pale gold against her unruly chocolate-brown curls, the freckles on her nose and cheeks set off the light tan of her skin, and the finely braided and worked necklace with the amulet on her low décolleté seemed to be blooming in tiny shimmering blossoms and leaves. The exquisitely embroidered and close-fitting dress with swathes of finest silk in fiery harvest colors billowing into a skirt from her waist made her look like a plentiful earth sprite, much more than fae ever could, and wild magic sparkled in her hair. The goblin queen bewitched and tantalized, and many a man and woman at the ball looked at her with desire.

Sarah had arrived at the doors to the ballroom in the company of her ever-present shadow at the same time as the goblin king did, and she accepted his graceful bow and not quite-so-graceful if most appreciative grin with a wide smile and a wink.

"Nice get-up, goblin king," she told him after she had given him a good look-over. "I would not have thought that any man could pull off a copper-colored coat, but you actually make it look good. And, you had the sense not to go for matching pants."

"I have no desire to look like a carrot, my dear. A man should be daring with his coat, not his pants."

Sarah laughed at him. "I am pretty sure this was a completely harmless remark, yet you managed to make it sound off-color. How do you do that?"

"Practice and experience, Sarah," was the prompt reply, "but let me tell you that all indecent remarks that jumped into my mind at the sight of you were completely unpracticed and new. You are bewitching, my sweet Sarah." He offered his arm to the queen with a flourish.

They entered the ballroom together, animated, radiant, and in the middle of an argument. Gossip about them passed through the city quickly, as always, and with each meeting of the king and the queen the odds at the betting tables in the old market halls kept getting better that they would eventually get hitched, and by now nobody was taking bets any more as the was no money to be made any longer. For a miracle the majority of punters were firmly backing the outcome that would bring them the least return on investment, at least monetary. However, most felt that the goblin king had finally found his match, and it served him right. The only major point of contention was whether it would take them a year or a great year.

Yet once they were inside the ballroom, Sarah made her escape as quickly as she could, for she had no desire to being questioned by the goblin king if she could help it. It was helpful that Toby was talking to his fae parents and Heulwen, and so Sarah had an excellent excuse. She did not need to think of avoiding Jareth for hours to come, as she was too busy. Sarah had not met lord Ailill O hEachtianna and his lady Caoilfhionn before, and she thought that Toby was either very lucky, or the goblin king was much more caring than she had given him credit for.  
A most gracious goblin queen began to court them, but that attempt did not survive Toby's and Heulwen's teasing and bantering, and in no time at all she was her usual self and acted and talked most unregally. Toby's parents were rarely at court and did not much care for it, and they were seduced and enchanted by Sarah's ways. They felt that their son was very lucky with both his sister and his betrothed.

Sarah would not recall clearly all events of the evening, but she remembered standing at her brother's side as his witness as he swore the marriage oath to Heulwen. She was embarrassed to realize that she was as sentimental as her mother Karen, as she was crying at her brother's wedding as much as their mother ever would have. Her only consolation was that Eirlys, Heulwen's witness, was as weepy as she was. Young Wyn, who doted on Eirlys, had a hard time to suppress the smirk on his face, and when Sarah caught a tear-fogged glance at the goblin king, she realized that this was an expression mirrored by him. Men!

The goblin queen managed to stay out of the king's way for a long time afterwards, yet at some point in the festivities she found herself unexpectedly in the goblin king's arms in a waltz, and he drew her into the middle of the dance floor before she had a chance to plead fatigue. Despite his expert leading and her usual strong reaction to him, Sarah was tense and suspicious. This had been an interception too smooth and inevitable to be accidental.

"Would you care to tell me what happened two sennight ago, Sarah?" Jareth's voice was deceptively light and polite, but Sarah could hear the determination under the velvet, and she wondered how she was going to wiggle out of that one. Two sennight ago she had nearly managed to get herself incinerated in the Plains of Ashes, and she had not planned to share her adventure with anyone.

"Happened? What are you talking about, goblin king?" Sarah looked at him with her usual "it-is-none-of your-business-what-I-am-doing" expression on her face, but Jareth was not minded to let her away with it this time.

"It was quite dramatic, my dear, really, I am sure you would have been impressed. In a heartbeat, a beautiful summers' day turned from warm and sunny to an impossible hailstorm coming out of a sky suddenly covered in thick clouds of the deadliest color I have ever seen. I hear it was like this all over the goblin kingdom. For a few minutes every oathbound just stood there, shaken by utter terror." His face was milder than she had ever seen it. This could not be good.  
"Let me tell you, Sarah, we could all have done without the hailstones, as none of us were able to protect ourselves from the pelting, frozen as we were in dread. I was a bit concerned if I was having one of these heart attacks you have described to Hina'ea."  
He examined her thoroughly, as one might observe a strange and not necessarily pleasant animal never seen before.  
"I was with some Matagan nobles in the hedge maze, and they were quite shaken. I was rather surprised of the sudden developments myself, but I obviously could not let them know. Luckily I have many great years experience at diplomatic negotiations, so I was able to lie a blue streak to keep them under the impression that I knew exactly what was going on."  
He smiled at her ferally. "How about making an honest man of me, my lady?"

Sarah decided that attack was the only chance she had in the way of defense. "How come I get the blame for what you can't explain, goblin king? You have been at this for a lot longer than me, so how the night should I know what happened? I was caught unawares just like everyone else. Why don't you ask the labyrinth?"

"I did, of course. It would not tell me. Strangely it has only begun doing that since you came to the kingdom, my dear."

Sarah was more relieved than she let on. She had managed to get the labyrinth to agree to keep this latest mishap to themselves, but she had not realized that it had been a very public mishap indeed.

His smile turned even more predatory, if that was possible, "As I am sure you ... experienced yourself, the labyrinth send out an urgent call through the mindlink to all oathbound to lend their magic. I do not believe there has ever been such a concentration of magic in the Underground, as everyone shared with the labyrinth what they had. And funnily enough, it did not seem to use any of it. It was only reaching, pushing, offering, and it was desperate. Now, how about telling me what for? What have you been up to lately, my dearest Sarah?"

Sarah looked at him as wide-eyed and innocent as she could, and he did not buy it for a moment. He looked at her with narrowed eyes. "Funnily enough, fourteen days ago the Phoenix was reborn on the Plains of Ashes. Did you know about that?"

"Who hasn't? Such a pity, had I known I would have gone there. I have never seen the Phoenix before, and I have no idea where I could find it."

"Really." How he managed to concentrate polite disbelief in one word, Sarah would never know. "Did you know, Sarah, that the Plains of Ashes are not part of the goblin kingdom?" Jareth inquired with a calculating look on his face.

Sarah looked at him with surprise clear on her face. Careful now, don't overdo it, girl, she admonished herself. "Actually, no, I did not know this, goblin king. I have heard the Plains talked about often, and I have always assumed from context that they are part of the goblin kingdom. But now that you mention it, I have never heard it said out loud." Sarah was glad that she wasn't even lying, she really had not known.

"No, the labyrinth does not extend over the side-arm of the Haliakmon that marks the beginning of the Plains of Ashes. But the Phoenix has ever been a friend of the labyrinth, and never have our enemies gained entry through the plains. It seems something happens to them if they try, and they are never heard of again. But our goblins roam freely there, so you might have heard stories from them, leading you to believe what is not so."

Sarah looked at him with polite interest on her face. As far as Jareth was concerned, that was a dead giveaway. Sarah was never polite to him if she could help it, and he shuddered to think what she had been up to. Nothing good, as usual, he told himself grimly. She somehow must have gotten herself stranded in the Plains of Ashes when the Phoenix set them on fire. He could not imagine what had happened exactly, and he doubted he would learn from her, but it would seem that the labyrinth had been quite afraid to find itself out of a queen, and it did not scare easily. The insufferable woman could not help herself, it seemed she needed to insert herself into the middle of all kinds of dangerous situations, and she was quite unable to understand that she could not be allowed to endanger herself. The labyrinth could not deal with that.  
He smiled at her with narrowed eyes. "Please, Sarah, whatever you have not been doing, be kind and do not do it again, if you can help it. I was dealing with the aftermath of this inexplicable occurrence for several days, and it was most tiresome."

Sarah was glad that he seemed to have decided to drop the topic, and while she strongly suspected that he had a pretty good idea of what had been going on, she did not feel any urgency to confirm his suspicions. Let him stew in his own juices. It was easier to outwit him when he was solidly wound up, and she needed any advantage she could get. Sarah decided not to give him the time to change his mind, and when the dance finally ended she most graciously begged his leave to dance with her brother.

Jareth watched the queen walk towards young Tobias, and he involuntary smiled at the young man's joyful smile when he saw Sarah come up to him. He was glad, both for his queen and for his young friend. A pleasant side effect would be, so he suspected, that the newfound relation might very well incline the queen to spend more time in the goblin city. Although it riled him to no end, he could not recall Sarah's run through the labyrinth, and he had had Toby describe to him in detail whatever he could remember from Sarah's stories. However, there had been too many human girls running for too many bratty wards for one of them to stand out. It was a pity. He thought that maybe he would be able to jog his memory if Sarah told him the details, but he suspected that the chances of that were relatively low. Or non-existent.

It did not matter. The queen would be in the city through the winter, and even longer if he could help it. He would come up with some excellent projects that required her undivided attention, and he figured that he could waylay her a good while. He grinned. She had an inexplicable interest in what the tradesmen did with their waste, and while he could not fathom why, he figured if he let her free reign in that one, it should keep her busy for well over a year. He was looking forward to it.

* * *

The next weeks passed in a flurry of activities. While Sarah and Nehorai kept up their work in the poorer quarters of the town as Eir and Ankimo, they still had enough time to enjoy life at court. The company of Toby and Heulwen was delightful for both of them. Toby had given Heulwen the Heqet amulet, which she wore proudly in the hollow of her neck, much to the obvious envy of many courtiers. The goblins told Sarah of conversations they had spied on, as many had tried to buy the amulet from the fian for what seemed to Sarah ridiculous sums, only to find their offers politely refused. Nobody was slighted by this, for a fertility charm that actually worked was a priceless possession.

Toby had told his wife how he had come into the possession of the amulet, and who had given it to them. To her delight Sarah found that Heulwen had lost no time to go to Nehorai and thank him with all her honesty and deep-felt gratitude. Heulwen told Nehorai that she knew it was him who had given them the amulet, and she apologized for the heedless prejudices that she had held before she had found out about who and what the Shedim truly were. Words are cheap, but Heulwen proved to be more than just sound and noise, for she made Toby teach her sign-language and began to search out Nehorai. If her intentions might have been but gratitude and kindness at the outset, unexpectedly for both a strong friendship began to grow between the two of them, for kind Heulwen found a kindred spirit in gentle Nehorai, and so the queen's shadow found friendship and acceptance for who he was in yet another not of his kind, and he was happy.

And as Sarah and Nehorai did every year, they went to the mists to celebrate Samhain with the Shedim, and to share into the songs of power, and when Nehorai told his brethren that the Heqet now were talking of the Shedim as friends among themselves, the celebration was even more joyful than usual. Yet when it was time to leave again, both of them were glad, for they had found belonging in the world, and they were looking forward to winter in the goblin city.

The cold and dark winter months passed quickly, and Sarah was busy with her work both as Eir and the goblin queen. She found that ruling was a lot easier if you shared the burden with someone else, especially as she got to pick what she wanted to deal with, and left the rest in the capable and experienced hands of the goblin king. She also found that coming to a compromise on a decision they had divergent opinions on could take a lot of screaming, mostly on her side, and relentless sarcasm on his, and it was a lesson neither of them took to easily or gracefully. Yet they found that their interests and abilities mostly complemented each other and allowed them more time to concentrate on what was important to them, so they learned to deal with the regrettable cost of compromise, and neither would have admitted that they quite enjoyed sparring with each other.

* * *

Then spring came to the goblin city, and before Sarah had occasion to consider leaving the town, she found herself embroiled in another argument with the goblin king.

As Eir had left for the market from her house in the lower city, she was shuddering in the cool morning wind, and since the wind passed through the tanners' quarter before reaching her house, it assaulted her nostrils with the reek of putrefaction and decay. This brought to the goblin queen's attention once again the necessity to change the way waste was dealt with in the goblin city, which was not at all. A curious mixture of magic and pipes delivered clean water to the dwellings and businesses in the goblin city, and huge underground sewers collected the waste water and trash and washed it into the Haliakmon, to be carried to the sea eventually. This is what had always been done, and nobody saw a reason to change it.

Until now. And so Sarah explained to Jareth in excruciating detail the dangers of letting waste build up in the rivers and lakes, and why and how something needed to be done about it. Jareth was both revolted and concerned, and he silently agreed with his queen that this was not a situation that could be allowed to go on unchanged. While he understood, as Sarah did not, that the underground's resources were indeed indefinite, as both the land and the sea had no end and kept growing like a living thing as needed, this did not mean that accumulating filth and destruction was a good idea. If he understood Sarah's explanations correctly, this might even have ill effects on all living things that none would not be able to observe at all, but just be suffering from at a later time, with none the wiser about its origins.

So he smiled at his queen with his most insufferable face. "I am sure this is a terrible problem, my dear," and the tone of his voice strongly implied the opposite. "I will be looking into it as soon as I can, so don't concern yourself about it any more."

And without missing a beat he turned the conversation to a different topic, and when Sarah tried to change it back she found him most unaccommodating. She was seething not so quietly, but she had heard that voice before, and she knew he would simply ignore her words as if nothing she said mattered at all. She should have known that this ignorant prick was not going to take her concerns seriously, and if she wanted something done about the matter, she would have to do it herself.

And so Sarah spend the rest of the year and until summer of the next in the goblin city, working tirelessly on cleaning up the effluents that used to be discarded carelessly, and she flattered, cajoled, bribed and occasionally threatened the guilds and the speakers of the different parts of town, and slowly, in small steps, and with an imaginative use of magic and technology, a workable system took shape. While the people of the goblin city did not directly notice any improvements of the water, as theirs' was always fresh, the selkies were full of praise, and they began to make their home in a new village downstream of the goblin city. And in a show of appreciation, as ostentatious as could be and driving home the point even to the most stubborn of her subjects, the Sao Llyr sent a stunning necklace of perfect, huge black pearls as a gift of gratitude to the queen.

And to guarantee the queen's single-minded determination, Jareth did his best to keep her enthusiasm up with a smattering of disparaging remarks and deep sighs, and it worked very nicely as far as he was concerned.

As Lughnasadh neared again, Sarah looked out over the sun-baked city from the ramparts of the castle and smiled contently.

"Are you congratulating yourself, Sarah?" Jareth's familiar voice came from behind her.

"Since nobody else is, what's wrong with that?" she answered him cheerfully, smiling at him over her shoulder. He was an ignorant sod about certain topics, but she enjoyed his company when they were not dealing with topics he was too obtuse to understand. Well, she didn't even mind arguing with him in the vain attempt to enlighten him. "People in the city might not have realized how much better the water is, but I have received some grudging admission that the air is a lot better-smelling, and cleaner, than it used to be. I imagine this is as much thanks as I am going to get, but our subjects are an ornery lot, so I consider my campaign a roaring success."

Jareth laughed. "Ah, my dearest Sarah, I came to beg your forgiveness." Sarah turned around and looked at the goblin king with surprise clear on her face.  
"I admit, Sarah, I did not take your concerns about the waste very seriously, but the selkies' appreciation did change my mind. I imagine it is necessary to live in water long enough to understand the value of its cleanliness." He smiled at her with all the gratitude he felt for her endeavors and hard labor. The goblin king had been amazed at the changes that Sarah's work had wrought in the air as well as in the water, and swimming in the Haliakmon did no longer seem a pastime best left to careless and oblivious children. Not that he would ever tell her, but the king was glad that his queen hailed from a world without magic and with much hardship, for it had shaped her and her perception in ways that none borne to the Underground could ever match.  
"I will freely admit I was wrong in not considering your suggestions with all the sobriety they warranted. You were right, my dearest, and I erred in my judgment."

"Can I have that in writing?" Sarah could not help herself as she smiled up to his face with a very pleased expression.

"There are limits to my gratitude, dearest lady," he smiled at her with a wicked grin and lifted her hand to his lips.

Sarah realized it was high time she got the hell out of Dodge, as the desire that ran through her whenever Jareth touched her seemed to edge her closer and closer the inevitable day when she forgot prudence and just threw herself into his arms, and she suspected that would be a very bad idea. He was an impossibly possessive man, and he did not even have any claim on her at all, so she shuddered to think what he might be up to if he ever felt he had one.

* * *

When she touched on the topic later with Nehorai, she let herself be swayed by his entreaties to spend another winter in the goblin city, as he pleaded his old bones would suffer grievously from the cold of the road. Sarah knew very well that his objections were a pretense, for it was not only the goblin queen that had long resumed her fighting lessons, but Heulwen and Toby had taken to teach the queen's shadow sword fighting as well, and Sarah knew that her friend relished in the companionship of people who knew all of him and cared deeply still.

Yet they were not to spend another peaceful winter in the goblin city. Rumors began to circulate in the streets about oathbound taken and kept prisoners, and within short weeks tentative reports came to the goblin city that an army was gathering at the borders of Khôràsan, which had never in all of time turned against the goblin kingdom but had kept the peace and been on excellent terms with the goblin king. Khôràsan, like the goblin kingdom, had been a haven for countless refuges from Ardar Iforas which loomed on their western borders, and the reigning council of the commonwealth had never waged war against anyone in all their history, as they were a peaceful people and not interested in quarrels not their own.

And one morning, as Sarah sat next to Jareth on their chairs during the weekly reception, ambassador Olkunut Mangqut Enkhjargal from Khôràsan came up to the front of the dais and bowed politely to the sovereigns of the goblin kingdom.

"I have received word from the council that an army is massing on our border to the goblin kingdom, your majesties. While most of the people in the army are not from Khôràsan, we have reports of our own being among the troops. We do not know what happened, and we have sent emissaries to the army, yet none of them ever returned. This is a threat to the goblin kingdom from our soil, majesties, but it is not coming from us. We do not know what happened, nor how to control it. We cannot talk to any in this strange army, as those we send seem to get absorbed into it. The Commonwealth of Khôràsan is at your utter disposition, majesties, for we do not harbor any enmity to the goblin kingdom, and we will stand by you for whatever befalls you due to actions of our own, however unintended. Majesties, the heart magic of the man without a name is taking hold of the people of the Underground as has happened before, and to our shame we have ignored it much too long. Command us, majesties, for the army of the Commonwealth is at your command."

Jareth and Sarah shared a quick look and conversed in their mindvoices, discussing the matters at hand in no-time, and finally Jareth addressed the Khôràsan ambassador.

"Ambassador Enkhjargal, we are grateful for the information the Commonwealth has decide to share with us. We have to ask you for some time to allow us to ascertain all you told us through independent sources, but let me tell you, from both the queen and me, that in our mind there is no doubt about the honesty of your words, and we do not hold Khôràsan responsible for deeds not their own. We will meet you in the afternoon for a private audience to discuss our further course of action." Jareth and Sarah rose from their chairs. "Please excuse our departure, my lords, my ladies, I am sure you understand our need for discussions of this sensitive matter. We will meet next week again, circumstances allowing," the goblin king finished ominously, and the king and queen left the room to the deep obeisance of all.

In the next days all the stories that had been gossiped through the streets and confirmed by the ambassador of the Commonwealth of Khôràsan were confirmed, and the rulers of the goblin kingdom were called to the border by the blood of their oathbound's blood spilled on the ground just outside of the goblin kingdom.

* * *

The march was uneventful, although Sarah did enjoyed it as much as she might have. When they had left the city, the king's stables supplied them with horses, even though none of the great horses would be brought into battle. One look at the animals, and Nehorai told her in no uncertain terms that nothing this side of the night would get him on the back of a horse, and his people had always been excellent walkers, thank you very much.

Nerromiktok presented the king and the queen with the finest great horses for the journey, and her face was as appalled as Jareth's when the goblin queen told them with a mischievous face that she could not ride, and had actually never intended to learn. However, humans were too weak to walk as tirelessly and long-gaited as Shedim did, so she did not have much of a choice. This sentiment was repeated unknowingly by Nerromiktok, as she told Sarah bluntly that she would enjoy walking even less, and asked her to wait. She led away the beautiful mare that had been Sarah's intended mount and came back with a serene and gentle looking gelding, a old great horse.  
"Siremun is the sweetest and most soft-footed of all our horses, lady Sarah," she told the queen. "He can be trusted with children, and he understands a rider's limitations. He will not bite nor try to throw you off, lady, all you need to do is stay put."

Wisely Jareth decided to keep his mouth shut until they had finally departed, although this laudable restraint did not last very long outside the goblin city.  
"You look like a sack of flour balancing most precariously, my dearest Sarah," he told her with laughter dancing in his eyes.

Sarah was minded to give him a piece of her mind, but her desperate struggle to stay on the back of the trotting gelding took up all of her energy. She tried her best to copy the smooth rising up and down in rhythm with the horse that seemed to come natural to the other riders, but night, it was tiring. However, she quickly found that there was no alternative unless she did not care about being jolted painfully.  
"I am on the back of this animal and I have only come off once in the last hour," she said with as much dignity as she could muster. "I have never ridden before, so I believe I am doing quite fantastically."

Jareth's heartless laughter was not encouraging. "That is probably a matter of opinion. Poor Siremun looks downright embarrassed, as well he might. Fantastic is simply not the word either he or I would use."

"I'd love to see you in a manual shift car, goblin king. Bet you wouldn't be quite so uppity then," Sarah said grimly, but she hung on to the saddle in black determination and swore to herself she would learn how to do it right if it killed her.

When they took a midday break, Sarah crouched on her horse and wondered how she'd ever get down. She somehow managed to get one leg over Siremon's head, so she sat sideways on his back. She looked down with dread. It was bloody high above ground. As Jareth lifted her off the horse, she was much too grateful to snap at him, and she was even more grateful for his presence as her legs immediately buckled as he set her down.

"Any excuse will do to fall into my arms, am I right, my dearest?" He looked at her teasingly when he picked her up and carried her to the meadow where the they had stopped for a rest. He sat her down on a soft blanket and swallowed his laughter when she threw herself backwards and groaned as she carefully stretched her legs.

"Where is an easy chair when you need it?" she asked the sky when she had pushed herself into a sitting position again. She gratefully took a mug of steaming larak that Jareth gave her.  
"And where is our army, goblin king? I rather doubt we could win any battle with these forces." She looked around curiously, as there were less than five hundred of them when they had left the goblin city.

"One of the nicer aspects of a goblin army in the goblin kingdom is that they are where you want them, when you want them, and you have to neither march them there nor provision them," Jareth told her while he was basking in the midday sun, his lean body relaxed next to her on the blanket.  
"And for our other forces, they will either join us on the journey to the border or go to our camp there directly, whichever is easier for them." He smiled languidly at the queen.  
"Many of the warrior-mages from Annwyn and Danu have been established in various parts of the goblin kingdom, and they are all of them coming to the borderland to aid us, my lady. And as you know, so will the bloodsworn we called."

Sarah nodded. Before they had left the goblin city, the king and the queen had sent out a call to the oathbound in the goblin kingdom through the labyrinth, summoning those of their own with skills in fighting to join the army on its way to the border.

A haltija storeman walked up, carrying two bowls of stew, and he handed them to the queen and the king with a smile. As Sarah engaged him in a chat about how and when the storemen ever found the time to get the food for the army ready as needed, quartermaster Ljótur came up to the king to discuss the arrangements for the journey, for the quartermaster's unit depended heavily on the magic of the labyrinth to get their supplies where and when they needed. The stew was delicious and Sarah was ravenous, but much too soon for her liking the break was over and it was time to go on.

Sarah got to her feet with some difficulties and like a drunken sailor she stumbled over to Siremon. While she wore pants without seams at the inside of the legs, she was rather sure that her skin was rubbed raw from the ride nevertheless. She looked up miserably at the horse and decided that tomorrow would be an excellent day to resume her riding lessons. She felt confident that Siremon would approve as well. So she turned to Jareth who had come up behind her, too close as always, ready to lift her into the saddle.

"I think I'll postpone the next lesson for a bit, goblin king," she grinned at him as she turned into her birdshape in a heartbeat, white feathers aflutter as she beat her strong wings to gain the air.  
And so, as the army marched on through the hours of the afternoon, the goblin queen shadowed them from the air, gliding on the thermals with abandon, and when she tired she would dive down to the convoy. Sarah was sure that Jareth was trying too much to impress her to not most courteously offer her a perch, and she found that she was right. So she would spend a pleasant hour or so on his arm, and if she was too heavy, he never let on but kept talking to her in the most agreeable fashion.

And so it went for the rest of the trip, Sarah would spend her mornings on the back of Siremon, and the riding lessons got easier over the days but still remained painfully challenging. Sarah came to like Siremon a lot, for he seemed utterly unaffected by her ignorance, and she found that the goblin king, Tiernan, and any number of companions riding with them were most generous and helpful with their advice. After a few days she could actually imagine that she might be able to enjoy riding at some point, as soon as she had developed calluses on her thighs. Yet every afternoon she turned to her seagull shape and flew high in the air, and when she tired of flying she would perch on the goblin king's arm and engage in heated arguments with him in their mindvoices.

When she asked him after a day or two, with a guilty conscience, if it would not be easier on him if he added a perch to the saddle, he just laughed.  
"If you find it difficult to stay on the back of a trotting horse even with your legs tight around its chest, what makes you think you would do any better with your bird's feet? You would rattle your brains out, Sarah."

And so the days passed, and more fighters joined their ranks every day. Sarah might have enjoyed the journey unreservedly had it not been for the sad fact that just about every muscle in her body ached abominably every evening, legs, stomach, back and shoulders in equal measure. The healing spell Toby had taught her helped, but every day she engaged in more strenuous exercise that set of another round of pain. Finally she changed back into her human shape one evening without any aches or soreness, as her body had adapted to the hard exercise. However, she had just a short time to enjoy this state of affairs, as they were reaching the borderlands by midday two days later.

Three weeks after they had left the goblin city the army reached the border. Every day during the journey more of their subjects had joined the army from the countryside, and when they reached the camp waiting for them, Sarah was amazed to see that at least once as many people were camped out already as had traveled with them.

* * *

The marquees of the goblin king and the goblin queen were in the center of the camp, well guarded by ferocious-looking goblins with a frightening collection of weapons, and the magic of the labyrinth sparkled along the thick canvas and poles. Sarah and Nehorai retired to the queen's tent as soon as she had cleaned and fed Siremon, a duty she had taken on without thinking about it, for she felt it was the rider's obligation to look after their mount. She had shared this morsel of wisdom with Jareth, pointedly, but he just laughed and told her that everyone was welcome to their beliefs, which did not mean he had to share their delusions. Yet whatever quiet and rest Sarah had hoped for in her quarters, she found that the heart-rendering screams that carried over the valley from the enemy's camp made the very idea of concentration impossible.

Sarah stormed out of her tent, her shadow Nehorai but half a step behind. "What the night is this? What are these are screams? What is going on?"  
She ran right into lord Ningyo, whose tent was next to hers, and he caught her quickly in strong hands.

"This is a ruse, majesty. They are trying to force us to act rashly. They torture the hostages, and they hope their screams will make us act without planning and following their script."  
Ningyo looked at his queen with furious eyes. "Lady Sarah, you must ignore it. If we do as we want, we will loose all the hostages and many more. This is the doing of the man without a name," and the words in his mouth were a curse.  
"It is a trap, my lady, they enemy wants to make us act in anger. Lady Sarah, you must calm down," and the passion in his voice and the strength of his will quieted his queen.

She looked up at him with anger and pain in her face. "They are hurting mine only to make us act without thought? Without care of what they are doing?"  
Ningyo looked at the queen, his mouth set in a line. "Lady Sarah, I am late for a meeting with the king. We will find how to deal with this."

Ningyo's lady 'Lo lani had followed him out of their tent. She touched him gently on the shoulder and gestured him on. "I will talk to the queen. Go ahead, love."

And as Ningyo hurried on to the goblin king's tent, Sarah smiled at the odei lady. "Please, lady 'Lo lani, join me in my tent. I am sure lord Ningyo has talked with you about what is going on here, and I am in dire need of more information." And so 'Lo lani and Sarah sat on low chairs in the queen's tent, drinking hot larak and doing their best to ignore the screams that cut through the air.

'Lo lani told the queen all she knew, all she had heard at court and in her conversations with her lover in the last weeks. At length she finished her larak.  
"In the last months most oathbound who were outside of the goblin kingdom went missing. Not killed, mind you, for the labyrinth would have known this, they just were gone. It was only the last weeks that this came to our attention, as people did not come back from trade routes as expected, and gossip started spreading. I think you know that, lady Sarah. After all, it is why we are here."  
'Lo lani smiled with an effort. "You know that the labyrinth's magic does not extend over its borders, lady Sarah?"

Sarah nodded, after the Plains of Ashes she was not likely to forget that lesson.

"It is not only the labyrinth. The king is a powerful mage in his own right, but there is a barrier to his magic at the border. He cannot break through to help our people, but it may well be that the man without a name is planning to use his magic against us. And as you can tell, they are torturing our own to move us to act rashly. I do not know what the king and the generals are planning, as I don't understand much of strategy, but I hope that they know what they are doing."

Sarah had heard much of this before, but she had not clearly understood all the consequences, and she did not like what she heard. 'Lo lani saw the queen's eyes go dark and her face turn distant.

_The other side of the valley is not far away at all, an archer with a longbow could send an arrow all the way to our imprisoned people. You shared your power with me when I was very much further away from your borders in the Plains. _

The answer was immediate and final.

**NO. I WILL NOT LET YOU PASS OVER THE BORDER, CHOSEN. NEVER. AND KNOW THAT I CAN STOP YOU. NOTHING YOU SAY WILL CHANGE THIS. **

Sarah knew the tone, and with a sigh she gave up on her as-yet unformed plan, as experience had taught her that nothing she could possibly say or do would change the labyrinth's decision. But then she looked up at 'Lo lani with narrowed eyes.

"I need to talk to one of the odei soldiers, lady 'Lo lani. I might have a way to help our people, but I believe I need an odein."

'Lo lani swallowed with a pale face, then she smiled at the queen. "Tell me, lady Sarah. I will do whatever is necessary."

Sarah looked at her surprised and somewhat shocked. "Oh no, lady 'Lo lani, I could not possibly ask you ..."

Before she could finish, the odei interrupted her. "You were going to do it yourself, my lady, were you not? I saw it in your face. And the labyrinth will not let you, because it is too dangerous, am I right? I am odei, lady, and I am bloodsworn to the labyrinth and to you, my liege. Will you tell me I cannot do what you were going to because I am a woman?"

Sarah did not know what to say, as that was pretty much what had come to her mind first. "Ningyo will kill me if I send you out, 'Lo lani," she pleaded. "You are not a soldier, and my plan might cost your life, as I cannot know whether it works."

"None in the goblin kingdom but the goblins in the army are soldiers," 'Lo lani looked at the queen without reproach. "Any other odein you could ask would be as much at risk, lady Sarah. I do not plan to die if I can help it. I have taken part in other campaigns, and I am still alive. My decisions are mine, not Ningyo's or yours. I came here with my lieges to fight for my people as best as I can. I am no good with a sword, but I doubt that is what you need."

Sarah looked at the slight odei with a sinking heart. 'Lo lani was right, but that did not make it any easier. "Once you pass over the border, 'Lo lani, we cannot help you any more. If my assumptions are wrong, you will likely die in the hands of our enemies, and you will die screaming."

The odei looked at the queen quietly and finally spoke with great dignity. "It is war, lady Sarah. My love to Ningyo is an abomination at all other courts, yet here we are honored and accepted. My home is the goblin kingdom and all it stands for. I do not want to sound pretentious, but I am willing to die for it." A smile broke on her face. "I also know that you are a devious and brilliant woman, and you would not have risked going over the border unless you thought your plan would likely work."

Sarah looked into the odei's determined face and grimly ceded. She took the dagger from her belt and handed the knife to 'Lo lani. "Shed your blood on the ground, my lady 'Lo lani. We need you as deeply tied to the labyrinth as possible."

* * *

An hour later the goblin queen stood in the valley at the edge of the goblin kingdom, barefoot, her skirts hitched up over her knees, and her eyes stared sightlessly into the distance. Her shadow stood before her, his eyes searching the sky and ready for an attack, and she was tightly surrounded by goblins who kept all and sundry away from her, and her person was shielded by the magic of the labyrinth who was not minded to take any risks with its queen. Blood ran down Sarah's leg to the ground from a cut on her calve, and she was deep in the mindlink to the labyrinth, calling to all oathbound to lend their power, as Jareth had said the labyrinth had done only weeks before. Sarah could feel the power grow, and she was amazed when she realized how much magic the oathbound themselves willingly shared with their liege. With her own magic and all the power at her disposition she searched for a call, her heart and mind straining for the slightest touch from the mind of an oathbound, while she cast spells and incantations at the army facing them. The ground on the other side of the small brook that demarcated the border shook slightly and came to rest again, and the air shivered under the onslaught of magic, but the attack dissipated without causing any damage, which did not cut short her further attempts.

The queen's call to the oathbound did not remain unnoticed. As she stood motionless in the evening sun, a group of people left the camp and walked up to the figure at the border. As they drew nearer, the goblins stepped forward and held back all but the goblin king, and despite Tiernan's and Porr's arguments they were not allowed to come near the queen. Jareth walked up to Sarah with long steps and stood next to her, looking interestedly at her vain attempts at inflicting damage on the enemy, and with a grin he moved into his mindlink to the labyrinth.

_Do you not think, my dearest Sarah, that I have tried this before? It worked as little as your attempts._

His mindvoice was much closer than his physical voice could ever be, and she felt each shading of amusement, exasperation and laughter.

_Keep up the attack, goblin king, and make it look really impressive so I can use all the power as I actually intend to. Do not let up, whatever happens, and make it look as if both of us are working together in the attack, if you value the life of our oathbound._

Sarah's mindvoice was urgent and called for his cooperation with desperate need, and though Jareth did not know what she intended, he wasted no time inquiring. The smile frozen on his face, the king cut his skin with a quick slash and his blood ran into the ground alongside the queen. He threw all his power and his experience in staging the flashiest, most impressive attack he could, all the while using as little magic as possible, feeding the goblin queen all he did not need.  
For a few minutes nothing seemed to happen but fiery shadows in the wind over the brook, and the border charged up with magic. Breathing became hard as the air turned hot and oily on the tongue, and where the blood of the king and the queen touched the earth, the ground began to ripen with magic. Then Sarah suddenly felt the faintest call of blood, and without even noticing she took the goblin king's hand into hers.

_Can you hear them call out? Hold on to the blood of our oathbound, Jareth, and don't let go. Keep up the attack as a distraction, as I need to build a link of power to draw from so they may shield themselves from their captors._

While Sarah spoke, they both felt the tug of blood again. Sarah was weak with relief as she recognized the mindtouch of 'Lo lani, and then one after another the hostages called out to the labyrinth with their own blood running into the ground in the enclosure they were held in. As Jareth redoubled his efforts at the impressive smokescreen he created with minimal power, Sarah followed the path of the labyrinth. From the experience of its prior attempt to reach with its magic beyond its borders, the labyrinth had found a way to extend its power beyond itself, searching for the blood of its oathbound. Sarah gathered her magic and cast a complex spell that followed the tendrils of magic that the labyrinth reached to the blood of its oathbound in the earth, and with exquisite care she strengthened the tendril and began to cast whatever protections she knew around it. Then Jareth dropped all pretense at attack and with all his power and age-old-control he drew on the magic and joined with Sarah to protect the connection of the labyrinth to the oathbound in the camp of the enemy. Within a few minutes they had fortified a solid connection to the bloodsworn, and while it was not powerful enough to give the hostages the ability to break out, they could draw on enough magic to create a shielding strong enough to withstand any attempts to break it. At last the goblin king and the goblin queen were convinced that nothing would be able to break the link and drew out of the mindlink.

It was eerily quiet in the valley, and to her overwhelming joy Sarah heard only echoes of silence from the area where the oathbound where held captive. "They are safe," she breathed, close to tears. "At least for the moment."  
She turned to Jareth with a relieved smile. "You better figure out how to get them back, goblin king. I doubt I have anything to offer for that."

Jareth smiled blindingly at Sarah and gave her a most formal bow. Then he lifted her hand, still in his, to his lips. "This is a fine piece of magic, Sarah, and you have bought us precious time to think and plan without terror eating away at us." He gently ran his finger along her cheek, and Sarah stood very still while heat was rising in her face.  
"I especially like how you were able to get the labyrinth's power to reach beyond its borders. This has only happened once before, strangely enough only lately when the Phoenix burned down the Plains of Ashes with none the wiser."  
For a moment Sarah was exceedingly glad that her face was red already, then Jareth laughed at her.  
"Whatever it is you did not do in the Plains of Ashes when you were not there, my dear, I am very glad it left such an indelible impression on you. It is always good to learn new things we did not know we could do. You, my dear, are a fount of unexpected information."  
He gallantly offered her his arm. "I am not sure if Ningyo will quite share my enthusiasm once he finds out that his lady 'Lo lani is in the enemies' camp, but I believe we will learn in a moment."  
He blithely ignored Sarah's guilty face as they walked back towards the camp. Yet in unspoken consent neither Jareth nor Sarah mentioned what had actually transpired to anyone but Ningyo when they were alone later. They agreed that it might be a good idea after all to keep the enemy in confusion if the shielding of the hostages had anything to do with them or not.  
Yet Lord Ningyo deserved to hear the whole truth, and when Sarah had told him he bowed with a barely perceptible hesitation to the goblin queen. Sarah was glad that he understood at all, for she was not sure if she could have been so forgiving in his shoes. Only an odei could reach the hostages without being noticed, blowing into their middle as a gust of wind before changing back to a physical shape. 'Lo lani was bound by her blood as deeply as possible to the labyrinth, able to direct the others and call for succor, and Sarah and the labyrinth had taken all precautions they could think of, all the while knowing that there was no guarantee that the plan would work. While Ningyo understood, he could not help being fearful for his beloved, and wishing it had not been her to do the deed. Yet Ningyo was a soldier, and he understood the necessities of war, even if he did not like them.

* * *

The king and queen of the goblin kingdom and their guards, several councilors and leaders of their army stood on the hill overlooking the plains and evaluated the scene. The armies had set camp on opposite sides of the valley, and even to Sarah's untrained eyes it was immediately obvious that the goblin kingdom's army was far outnumbered.

Jareth explained rather grimly in answer to her questioning glance. "The goblin army is over three thousand strong, which is much bigger than any of the other demesnes. Yet our soldiers are goblins, Sarah, so we need not be concerned with provisioning them, nor with the difficulties of organizing and communicating with them. On our march here another two thousand or so of our people have joined us."  
Sarah nodded in understanding. Many more of their oathbound than she had expected had joined them after they had called to those with skills in fighting to join the army. They had made a point of specifying that only those who could be spared from the harvest were welcome. Tiernan had disagreed and tried to change their minds, yet as Jareth had pointed out, what was the point of winning a battle if your people died of hunger in the months after?  
"Ours should be the biggest army that the underground has ever seen." Jareth looked intently into a scrying crystal he had conjured in his hand.  
"Yet there are more than ten thousand in their camp, Sarah. How can the land sustain any army like this in harvest time? How are they fed, armed, and who takes care of the fields?"  
He threw another crystal to Sarah, who caught it easily and looked into it in concentration. "Many of them look like farmers, no weapons but daggers, scythes and cudgels. Such as those would never have left their land, Sarah. Can you see how many women are among their numbers? Yet less than one of ten of the oathbound who joined us are women, for most women have no interest in spending their time on becoming proficient in the arts of war. I doubt that this is different in other demesnes. We are not facing a normal army."

Sarah looked at him in alarm and swore. "They are not here by choice, nor are they truly prepared for war," she said with rising horror.  
"They never choose to fight us, nor what they were doing to the prisoners, do they, goblin king? They were called here by the will of the man without a name, were they not?"

Jareth nodded his head tensely. "The man without a name has no care for anyone, Sarah, and it is his will that animates those who are waiting for battle. He does not care if they live or die. Neither today nor next month."

"But there are many among them that seem well armed and mounted on horses," Sarah's face was tense with concentration. "I can see the banners from Ardar Iforas, but there seem to be more armed fighters, other than fae, and a fair amount of horses. They must have been called from many demesnes." She looked up from the crystal with dread on her face. "Seasoned fighters, well armed. Not only farmers."

Jareth scowled at the camp. "I do not understand the purpose of all this, for what does our enemy have to gain? We could easily slaughter the farmers if we wanted to, and our people will fight with a determination that those poor souls, drawn into a battle not of their choosing, cannot feel. The man without a name can gain no foothold in the goblin kingdom even if they won the battle, so why show his power like this?"

Tiernan looked at him, surprise in his face. "Why should we care? We were worried about our losses, Jareth, but what do we have to fear from this rabble? We can actually try to get your subjects back without many losses. We have seasoned fighters as well."

Jareth looked at his brother coldly. "Most of the people we face are not soldiers, and I doubt they know how to fight, even if they were here by choice. I do not care to slaughter innocents, even to help my own," he said sharply.  
"You cannot believe this is not some kind of trap, Tiernan. Who knows what might befall us as we cross over."

Tiernan said nothing and looked over Sarah's shoulder into the crystal. "I would have thought that your crystals show the enemy's camp closer up?"

"So would I," Jareth said, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "But try as I might, I cannot break through the barrier with my magic for any useful end. Which is another reason I hesitate to send the army to fight, for I cannot use my magic beyond the goblin kingdom, and I suspect our enemy can. He has hoarded more magic than anyone beholden to heart magic has before him, and his powers are immense if he can block my powers at the border."

"But you said that this is the all of the enemy's army, Jareth," and Tiernan sounded suddenly doubtful.  
"I thought you knew through your magic, for I have tried to send out some of our fae soldiers after they changed to their bird shape, but something stopped them from flying. How then do we trust that our enemies are not more numerous than we see, and laying a trap for us?"

Sarah answered his question quietly. "Nobody is doing reconnaissance over the battlefield, lord Tiernan, and nobody will. I can guarantee that no enemy has been observing us from the air since we left the goblin city. Yet I have information about the movements of the army we are facing, and I know for a fact that while there may be the occasional individuals still joining the army, there is no bigger group anywhere in two days vicinity."  
Before they had left the goblin city, Sarah had carefully built the spell that kept the skies empty of all shape-changers and had called to the floaters to come to the border. Even Jareth had admitted that the sky sheep might be useful, although he could not stop himself from admonishing her to inform them to keep their silence. Sarah did not feel it necessary to go into any detail, but she had seen the ground through the eyes of the floaters milling in the skies, and while the man without a name might be able to force his hapless victims to do his bidding, he seemingly could not make them to act independently and with planning, as they had just congregated at this place, without thought of hidden troops or surprises.

Tiernan looked at her with doubt in his eyes. "How big would a group be before you can see them, lady Sarah? And are you sure they cannot scout us? Forgive me, lady Sarah, I have never heard of such magic."

Sarah looked at him impatiently. "That probably means you will have to believe my words, right?"  
Her eyes turned distant for a minute, and she swayed slightly on her feet. "If a group is less than five, perhaps six people I probably will not notice them, but we do not really need to worry about some stragglers joining the main army, lord Tiernan. And yes, I am sure that nobody can scout us."

Before she could go on further, lord Ningyo addressed both her and the king. "How many hostages are in their power, my lieges?"

Sarah and Jareth shared a quick look, and moved deep into the mind link to the labyrinth.

"More than four hundred and seventy, men, women and children who had been in several of the other demesnes," the goblin king said with fury on his face. "They are of all kindreds, dwarf, odei, and fae. Their captors cared only that they were oathbound."

Sarah added with equal heat: "They were caught unawares, tied up and brought here to be locked up, and they have been treated badly. But they are alive, and they are save for the time being until we can free them."

The lord Ningyo was a seasoned soldier, and he did not like what he heard. "The man without a name is using them as a lure, a trap. He knew you would lead an army here to free your own," and he smiled at his lieges, for too many rulers in the underground cared little about those without power, "but just as Babdh knew never to attack the oathbound within the goblin kingdom, so he knows that he cannot win a fight within our borders."

He looked disturbed by the inevitable conclusion. "You are right, my lord Jareth, he wishes to force us to battle outside the goblin kingdom. I don't know what trap he has laid, but this does not bode well. However, it would see that he has underestimated your power, my lieges."

* * *

Jareth began to fall into a spirited discussion with the other men at Ningyo's words, as all of them had lived through other campaigns before. Sarah understood she had nothing to offer to the discussion, for what did she know or care about war? She could fight well enough to defend herself against an attacker for a time, yet she knew herself to be unable to hold her own against a seasoned fighter. She knew nothing of strategy and tactics and had less interest. She also suspected she would be no good at it if she tried, since her impatience and short temper did not seem to lend itself to a successful war leader. Sarah had been to strategy meetings before, and she knew she was in for some endless hours of waiting.

She ground her teeth in frustration when she felt Nehorai's hand on her shoulder and heard his familiar voice. "So, we are not fighters. There's nothing surprising about that, Sarah, but we're quite good at other things, are we not? The labyrinth already has one ruler who knows of war, this is not what you were bound for. And we need to stay well behind the fighting anyway, for you must observe the valley through the floaters view and be the goblin king's eyes." She smiled at Nehorai's hooded figure, how did he always know the right words to pull her out of her self-pity?

"Tell me, Sarah," he went on, slowly putting his thoughts into words, "you said the man without a name is much more powerful than any fae has ever been, but not as powerful as the labyrinth?"

"Yes, and while I don't quite understand how Jareth did it, or really care, he judges that while our enemy has more power than any other fae has ever controlled before, he is not now nor ever can be as powerful as the labyrinth. But the problem is that he can use his magic more effectively than Jareth or I can, as he is not hindered by any concerns for other people or whatever damage he may inflict. For example, even through the magic shield mostly blocks the labyrinth's power here at the border, still, with all the force of the labyrinth and our bloodsworn, I could probably tear apart the earth under our enemies to kill them. But they hold our people hostage, and they themselves are little more than hostages themselves. So our powers are limited by our scruples, and unfortunately for us the man without a name has none."

Nehorai fell silent for a moment. "Sarah, have you ever blocked anyone's power?"

"What do you mean by that?"

"I will show you, Sarah. Most kindreds find it impossible to master, but we shedim do it all the time, and easily - it is how we survived before we found sanctuary in the mists. We were able to stop those who hunted us from using their magic against us. And since you first learned magic from us, and you always took to our lessons without difficulties once you knew what was required, it may be easy for you. Now, pay careful attention to what I am saying, and please, make sure that the labyrinth listens, too. I'm trying to help us, and I'd hate to be killed by my friends."

Sarah laughed and pulled the labyrinth's attention into their mindlink. And Nehorai carefully described the way to block an opponent's power and he described it just so, and while he was an excellent teacher, Sarah could not visualize what he meant by "re-directing the power". When she asked for clarification, he started using various similes to describe the concept, which did not help any.

"Night, you sound just like Jareth when you go on like this, " she said in exasperation. Her eyes lit up. "I nearly understand what you mean, but I just can't picture it well enough to do it , Nehorai," she complained. "Ikiaq has touched my mind before and showed me how to gather magic. Can you do that?"

And when Nehorai touched her mind to show her, Sarah found the experience both as effective and unpleasant as it had been the first time. She was still busy shaking her head to get the strange, tickly sensation out of her head when she heard Nehorai's teasing words. "You were right not to allow the goblin king to touch you mind, Sarah. I don't think you'd be leaving his doubtlessly very physical presence for a long time if he got a glimpse of what is going on in your head. "

Sarah glared at him and growled indignantly. "Have you been snooping around in my thoughts? I'll pluck and tar you, you bloody bird," and she stood with her hands on her hips and pushed her face as close to her shadow as she could.

"Where's the need for snooping, Sarah?" Nehorai was not in any way put out by Sarah's indignation. "These thoughts are right on the surface when you are within screaming distance of the goblin king," and Sarah could tell from the bright tone in his voice that he barely could keep his laughter under control, "I think I mentally stood between you and Jareth when I got into your head."

Sarah decided that pronounced haughtiness was her only way out. "Pah, admit it, Nehorai, you're just jealous. I'll have you know, a dirty mind is a joy forever. And since I am not quite dumb enough to act on those most unfortunate thoughts you have been intercepting, where's the harm?" She smiled at her friend with intent. "And any further remarks from certain people will be met with utter displeasure from their sovereign. Just thought I'd warn you."

For a kindness Nehorai refrained from saying any more, and Sarah breathed a sigh of relief. Under Nehorai's guidance she practiced blocking his magic, and when she had managed that, as easily as he said their own children did, they decided it was time to see if she could use the labyrinth's power to do the same to the magic barrier in the valley.

* * *

They were so absorbed into their project that they were completely oblivious to the inquiries from their companions until finally Jareth shook Sarah's shoulder when the men had finished their conversations over hours later.

"What the night are you doing, Sarah?"

Sarah jumped at the unexpected touch to see the men looking curiously at her and her guard and spoke excitedly. "I figured there's nothing I have to add to your battle plans, but between Nehorai and I we came up with an idea," and she smiled at Nehorai before she turned back to the men.

"I think I can block the power of the man without a name, so at least we will not be attacked unawares and defenseless as our forces move forward beyond the border. I doubt that you will have use of your own magic, goblin king, but neither will our enemy be able to use his against us."

Jareth smiled at her, forbearance clear on his face, an expression mirrored by the others. "Sarah, very few have ever mastered this," but before he could go on Sarah interrupted him curtly.

"Just because fae have a problem with this does not mean the goblin queen does. Very few people have ever mastered a spell of compulsion, or am I mistaken?" Sarah was tired of being treated like a wayward child who cold not be trusted with responsibility. She leaned back against Nehorai to brace herself and gathered all her magic before she spoke again, a distant expression on her face. "Bear with me, goblin king. Try to use your magic on me, as I have blocked it. What are you going to do about it?"

Jareth looked at her with a patient expression in his face that only steeled her determination.  
"You asked for it, Sarah," and he gathered his magic to shake off her attempt at keeping him from using his magic. At least that was the plan. He could feel his own power as well as the power of the labyrinth at his disposal, yet he could not bend it to his will, and it remained stubbornly unresponsive to his command. His ire raised, he tried again, a different way, and yet another again, and when all approaches failed, he decided to attack Sarah herself, but he could not gather enough power to do so.  
Finally he gave up, and it cost him dearly to do so. "You win, my lady. I had not thought it possible, yet you did block my magic. How?" He could not keep a sour note of righteous indignation out of his voice, which displeased him to no end.

A light sheen of sweat on her face, Sarah looked at him with undisguised triumph. "My powers are as great as yours, goblin king, and it's none of your business how I did it."

The other men stared at them. "You actually blocked his powers, lady Sarah?" Porr voice was the very description of disbelief, and Tiernan and the other men stared at her with wide eyes.

"Why the night is everybody so bloody surprised that I can do this? I am the goblin queen, you know, and you all have seen me use magic before. Did you expect me to be just a more-or-less decorative piece of arm candy?"

Jareth had quickly recovered from his fit of pique, why did he keep underestimating Sarah? She was his equal, and she had always been able to surprise him.  
"Humans certainly have a way with words, Sarah, as you would make an admirable piece of ... arm candy. But it is easy to underestimate you, my lady, as blocking magic is among the most difficult things, and few ever master it. Where did you learn such a thing? "

Sarah barely managed to keep a straight face as she heard Nehorai's voice from behind her back under the spell of silence.  
"Of course he would say that, most fae can never learn. Among shedim it is not considered difficult at all, and you learned it as fast as any of our children. Come on, Sarah, ask him if he can do it."

Sarah decided to ignore Nehorai's words for the moment, sorely tempted though she was. "Don't you think, goblin king, that I have been making my home in the goblin kingdom for enough years to have learned a thing or two without your guidance?" She smiled sweetly and insincerely at Jareth.  
"Shouldn't we rather concentrate on how we can use this?"

When the discussion on the hilltop went over the strategy again, Sarah for a blessing found that for once she had something to offer to the planning.

* * *

When they finally went down to the camp at sundown, Sarah bid good-night to the men. She knew her part in tomorrow's battle plan, and she understood that the king and the generals would be spending several more hours discussing strategy. Her part in the planning was done, and Sarah would pass the evening in the company of her brother. And since Toby and Heulwen were married, her brother would fight with her friends in the Carmarthen fian, and she went to share their fire.

When Sarah and Nehorai walked back to the tent hours later, Sarah shivered from the tension that hung in the air all over the camp. Toby and Nehorai had conducted an extended discussion in sign language, while Eirlys, Heulwen, and Sarah formed an impromptu-choir to entertain their friends with dirty ballads. The laughter around the fire had been a bit too loud, and their carelessness a bit too forced. They all rejoiced in the company of their friends, for they knew that it might be the last time that they were all of them together. And when Sarah tightly embraced her brother, her sister-in-law and her friends before she left, they all knew that they might not meet again, and the unspoken fear and love was in everyone's eyes and hearts.

* * *

And so, when they had reached the goblin queen's tent, Sarah told Nehorai to go ahead, she would come in a little while, and she stood in front of her tent undecidedly before she finally, near unwillingly, turned her steps to the goblin king's tent. Sed, standing guard before the king's tent, grinned at her and opened the door curtains with a flourish. When Sarah walked in, she found Jareth sitting in a chair, the flickering light of a lantern throwing dancing shadows over his set face.

"I did not expect to see you again before the battle, Sarah," and his delighted smile immediately raised her hackles.

"Just tell me if you'd rather I leave immediately, goblin king. I'd hate to inconvenience you." Sarah cursed herself silently. Why did she always get angry with him no matter what he said, why did she always feel so defensive?

"Forgive me, that was uncalled for, goblin king. I did not mean to be so rude." She smiled at him apologetically. "I am fearful about tomorrow, and it makes me even more short-tempered than usual. I was wondering if there has been any change in the plans?" Sarah was quite sure that Eek would have informed her of any changes, but as she barely knew why she was here, she had asked the first thing that came into her mind. Before Jareth had a chance to answer she went on hurriedly. "You do realize it is stupid for you to go into battle, don't you? It is a good idea to let the goblin soldiers deal with the farmers, they will not know enough of fighting to actually hurt any of our goblins but by sheerest bad luck, and I think Porr was right when he said the goblins can probably knock most of them out without killing them. Yet Lleu and the fae nobles of Ardar Iforas are a different story. You told me yourself that Lleu is a renowned fighter, and I don't believe he needed much prompting from the man without a name to attack the goblin kingdom. He probably volunteered."

Jareth had poured two glasses of firewine and offered one to Sarah. "Sit down, Sarah, just watching you pace is making me dizzy." Sarah took the glass and sat down in the chair opposite him.

Jareth looked at her quietly and told her the truth without whitewashing the issues. "Most of the army we face are peasants, and our soldiers should be well able to subdue them, even heavily outnumbered, as our goblins know what they do."  
His face was set and harsh. "Yet there are still at least three thousand soldiers who do know how to use a sword, and they will be much harder to fight. And as you said, among them are Lleu and the fae nobles from Ardar Iforas. Even if their will is subjugated by the man without a name, their skills are not. And I agree with you, they may well be here by their own will after all. Lleu is herem to all now, what does he have to loose? They have disgraced themselves in the Underground, and none will have anything to do with the fae from Ardar Iforas, now or ever. They hate us for this, and they place the blame for their predicament on our names. They will fight hard, and well. The fian and the fae from Danu fight with the people of the goblin kingdom, and I am ever grateful for them, for they have been trained in the art of war much more vigorously than our own subjects. We need every fighter we have on our side."  
Jareth took a sip from his glass, deep in thought. "There are too many people for battle in the valley, and this will be a problem, if more for us than for our opponents. We will be hemmed in and in each others way, and this is dangerous in combat. I doubt that the man without a name cares how many of his pawns die, he has gathered enough to sacrifice two of them for each of our soldiers."  
He looked up into Sarah's eyes. "Our people are willing to die in this battle we called them to, so how could I not fight with them? I know that this is not what the humans in the Above do, but it is the way of the Underground. And your ability to block our enemy's magic has saved us from whatever trap he planned to spring on us, so the odds are much more even than before. I believe that whatever the man without a name had been intending to do to us at the border, you have made it impossible. He will not be able to use his magic against us."  
His grin was wild and unrestrained. "This is not the first battle I have been in, my queen, and I doubt it will be the last. You may not believe it, Sarah, but I am an excellent fighter, and I am considered a creditable general."

Sarah looked up at him, her face pale and worried. "I sincerely hope you are right, goblin king. Just remember, if you don't come back, I will kill you myself. I have just been through ruling the bloody kingdom for well neigh a year, and it was not an experience I care to ever repeat. Ruling is your job, and don't you forget it." Sarah finished her glass in a quick gulp and got up quickly. The smile on her face was as determined as it was pitiful.  
"I promise you, I will keep our people safe from the enemy's reach, and nobody will use magic against you and ours when you cross over the border of the goblin kingdom. I guess the rest is up to you, goblin king."  
She walked up to the king and leaned down, her lips touching his in a gossamer kiss, then she turned quickly and walked to the entrance before Jareth even had a chance to get up. As Sed held open the curtain for her, Sarah turned around a last time.  
"Fight well, Jareth, and keep safe," she said softly before she left the tent.  
The goblin king looked after her with a smile.

* * *

Nehorai was half asleep on his cot already when Sarah entered her tent. "What are you doing here?" came his sleepy voice.

"What kind of question is that? Trying to get some sleep before the battle."

"I did not expect you back tonight, that's all," was the quiet answer from her friend.

Sarah looked over to the figure wrapped in blankets in disbelief. "What the night do you think of me?"

"I thought you were smart," he said drowsily. "People die in battle, even good fighters, even those who have had much experience." After a few moments of silence his voice came again. "Aren't you going back, Sarah?"

Sarah had taken off her boots and overdress and threw herself on her cot. "I have no idea what you are talking about, Nehorai. Good night."

"You two are much too stubborn for your own good," Nehorai sighed resignedly. "Good night, Sarah."

* * *

The camp began to stir at dawn and people began to get ready for battle. The day promised to be a beautiful autumn day, brisk, cold, and beautiful, the sky a sapphire blue without a cloud to mar its clarity. Sarah dressed in warm men's clothes, tightly-woven pants and a thick linen shirt under a leather jacket and a dagger at her belt, and Nehorai wore warm clothes under his cloak, but in unspoken agreement they did not share the fires for breakfast, for Sarah had said all her goodbyes the night before, and she did not think she could bear to go through it again. The goblin queen's small party set out to the hill overlooking the valley, one of her fae guards leading the way while two others guarded the rear. Eek was ambling along in Sarah's wake, and like all goblins this day he was armed, a sharp dagger in his belt and a nasty short axe in his hands as he doggedly made his way by his queen's side, his usually peaceful face sharp and dangerous. On the way Sarah leaned heavily on Nehorai as she began to pass the visuals of the battlefield from the floaters in the skies to the goblin king. When they had reached the hilltop, the guards took up positions while Sarah, Nehorai and Eek made themselves comfortable on the knoll on a thick blanket Sarah conjured. They would be here for as long as the battle lasted, and Sarah thought grimly they were going to be miserable observing the killing from a distance, but there was no reason that they could not at least be comfortable.

Then the battle began, and the day proved immeasurably worse than Sarah had ever been able to imagine.

At the core of her mind she felt the shield around the oathbound in the enemies' camp, a more precarious and demanding thing of magic than she cared to admit even to herself. The oathbound's shielding and the protections she and Jareth had woven around the connection to the labyrinth kept being battered by the pounding of the countless minds that bore down on it, even with the tendrils of magic from the labyrinth to shore up the bloodsworns' power. But Sarah found the strengthening of the link's protections to be the easiest task of her day.

Above she had grown up in the ignorant safety of a powerful country that had not experienced war within its borders for far longer than her life, and violence and death was something she'd only seen on a screen, happening to strangers in faraway places whose names she could not pronounce. Nothing in her old life, nor in her travels in the goblin kingdom, much more peaceful than she had thought them at the time, had prepared her for the reality of war. Sarah was heartsick of death and pain within a short hour, and yet the blows to her mind had barely begun.

In her innocent daydreams she had secretly imagined that the goblin queen would save the day, using her unparalleled powers to catch the man without a name when she blocked his magic, and end the fight before it had truly started. In reality she found that she just about could block his control of his power with all of her strength, and it left her increasingly drained, but she could not follow it to its source.

And all the time the battle beat on her mind relentlessly, and as it commenced, the loss of her oathbound began to batter on her, each death tearing into her like a knife as she was as closely linked to the labyrinth during the battle as she had ever been. Sarah learned in the most violent way how closely bound to the labyrinth the bloodsworn truly were, as each life cut short tore on her sanity like a scream, and yet she was helpless to aid her own in their struggle.

The goblin queen might not have been able to hold up had not her shadow and her goblin been at her side the whole time, and the steadfast love in their touch gave her the strength to hold on when she might have despaired otherwise.

And so the morning passed slowly, and Sarah's blind eyes were red with unnoticed tears running down her face, and her despair grew, and it seemed to her that the day would never be ending, and the deaths would never stop.

* * *

On the battlefield in the valley the fighting was fierce and brutal. On a hilltop that had grown up over night at the border stood the archers, their quivers full with arrows, protected from retribution by the magic of the labyrinth. As the battle started, they rained death onto the enemies from the sky, and for minutes a cloud of arrows darkened the sky as volley after volley of the deadly shafts hit the mindlessly advancing enemies. The archers tried to aim as best they could on those that were fully armed or on horseback, but inevitably many of those hit by the arrows were but hapless farmers.

Then the bigger part of the goblin army crossed the border, and they avoided engaging the well-armed opponents unless they could do so quickly and without loosing time, but targeted the folks that were obviously not soldiers. The goblins were efficient and ruthless, and a quick slash at the legs, or the back of the knee followed by a violent hit over the head with the pommel or the flat side of a sword took out those they encountered while killing as few of them as possible. Goblins being well neigh indestructible, they suffered no losses from these encounters as none of the hapless farmers had either the arms nor the experience to kill them.

The goblin king led the attack with the fae from Danu and Annwyn, with a thousand of the well-trained goblin soldiers and those of the oathbound who could wield a sword, and once they had crossed the border and met with those of their enemies who were armed and dangerous, the frontline broke into countless individual fights. Within an hour or less none of the fighters was on horseback still, as the beasts had been killed under their riders, and fighting was down to hand-to-hand combat.

As they had planned, the goblin king, the experienced fighters from the goblin court and the warrior mages from Annwyn and Danu took on the well-armed fighters from Ardar-Iforas, and the fighting was bloody and drawn-out. The nobles from Ardar-Iforas fought with hate and vengeance in their heart, and they did not expect to live but only wanted to take as many of the bloodsworn with them as they could.

When Jareth finally met Lleu on the battlefield, the fighting had raged for hours already, and both were covered in blood from the endless killing, and their arms were tired. They were both superior fighters with a longsword, and for a long time it seemed that none of them could win an advantage over the other. Suddenly Lleu lunged at Jareth, who had stumbled over a body on the ground, and the goblin king parried the blade at the last second, catching it with his crossguard. As the fighters found themselves face to face for a moment, Jareth released one hand from the grip, and faster than the eye could follow, he pulled a needle-sharp, thin dagger from his belt and stabbed Lleu under the ribs in an upwards motion, the thin blade passing through the rings of Lleu's chainmaille and piercing his heart. Lleu king of Ardar Iforas died without a sound, and his body slid to the ground.  
Yet Jareth had no time to revel in his victory, for he had barely pulled the dagger out when he had to parry another blade in the hands of a fighter who had made it by his goblin guards, and the fighting went on.

And no further than fifty yards away the Carmarthen fian fought, and Toby thought that his friends were as good as he had ever seen, and he grinned wildly. They were tired like everyone else, yet all thought but the next parry, the next lunge had left their minds, and they battled with determination and skill. For a split moment Toby looked at Heulwen who fought with Eirlys at her side a few steps ahead of him, and the two women seemed to be dancing in perfect harmony.  
Then Eirlys was jostled back by the man who attacked her, and as she tried to catch herself she bumped into Heulwen, who lost her own footing as she slipped on the bloody ground. In this moment's confusion Heulwen's opponent saw his chance and thrust his sword with all his strength into her middle, and although she tried to parry, her stance was not strong enough to block the blade. The young woman went down without a sound, and without ever knowing how he had fought his way to his fallen wife, Toby found himself next to her body.  
Eirlys had dispatched both her and Heulwen's attacker, and the other Fianna had drawn together to shield their sword-sister from further attack. Toby fell to his knees next to his wife, but even before he searched for her pulse at her throat, he knew by her sightless open eyes that she was dead. Yet he did not have the time to grieve, and with a scream he jumped up, and he and the Fianna went back to the fight.

* * *

Sarah was so deep in the binding with the labyrinth, so entwined in the battle, that she never realized that the latest deaths that tore the blood-ties to the labyrinth were those of her fae guards. Two of them were dead with arrows through their throats before they could sound an alarm. The last one was struggling for a moment before a deep slash through his throat cut his life short, but not before he had a chance to shout out a warning.  
Sarah was slow to react when Eek's shrill scream pierced the air. She shook off the daze that had held her for hours and stumbled to her feet.  
Nehorai stood with his back to Sarah and desperately, improbably, fought off two attackers. Eek cut the Achilles tendon of one of the swordsmen coming at Nehorai with a vicious stroke. As she looked on still barely comprehending, Eek jumped on the back of the falling fae attacker and finished the job with a violent thrash at the attacker's neck.  
Sarah heard a whooshing sound behind her and threw herself to the ground, more from unconscious instinct and the lessons of her murder training than anything else. A dagger missed her body by but a few hand-spans. She turned frantically on the grass and without thinking she grabbed her own dagger, and threw it in the direction of the noise. Less than a yard away the tall figure of a fae soldier loomed over the goblin queen, his raised cobalt sword frozen at the apex of a deadly arc. He stared at the handle of the dagger sticking out from belly with mute surprise.  
Sarah scrambled backwards from the swaying figure to her feet as fast as she could. In a split second Eek was swinging at the man with brutal efficiency and speed, and before her eyes the attacker fell to his knees and keeled forward on his face, an axe embedded in his skull.  
Sarah frantically turned around to Nehorai and saw him slowly pull out his sword from the fallen body of the third would-be-assassin.

The silence on the hilltop was broken only by their harsh breaths, and nothing in the vicinity stirred. The whole attack had happened with blinding speed, too fast for Sarah to consciously give alarm, but the labyrinth had been quickly alerted by the queen's goblin as much as by Sarah's violent start. While the attackers on the hilltop were dead, the labyrinth would not endanger its chosen again, and its magic mercilessly scoured the area at the border. It caught five more groups of people not bloodbound to the goblin kingdom moving stealthily towards the hilltop, none of them larger than three people, well disguised and melting into the landscape. None of them lived, for the labyrinth cared not for knowledge. They would have killed its chosen. None but oathbound would be allowed in the queen's vicinity now, for the labyrinth would not risk both its king and queen.

Sarah kneeled before Eek and hugged him tight. Now that the danger was over he was back to his usual silly-looking self, but Sarah had seen her goblin fight for her, and she would never again make the mistake of underestimating him. He had been as fierce and vicious as any goblin she had ever seen, and she was proud of him.  
She got up with a smile and walked over towards Nehorai, about to say something, when she realized that he was standing with his arms pressed to his body, and a black stain spread on his cloak. Whatever had been on her tongue died unspoken as she ran to him in sudden fear.  
"Nehorai, what is wrong?" She stood in front of him and with shaking hands she gently took off the cloak that covered his slight frame, and he did not resist. He let her pull the cloak over his arms, but then again his hands clutched his stomach. The grey feathers on his clawed hands slowly turning red as dark blood was slowly seeping out from the gaping wound in his belly where this attacker had driven in his sword, as Nehorai was defending Sarah as best he could.

The goblin queen looked at him, her face white and horrified, and she drew her magic to her with feverish urgency when Nehorai put his hand on her arm to ward off her power.

"Don't, Sarah," and his voice was distorted with pain.

"Are you completely crazy, Nehorai? Your are very badly hurt, my friend, so shut up and let me heal you. And now sit down, so it is more comfortable for you." With panicked hands she pulled him down on a wide cot she conjured with barely a thought, urgently but gently still, and Nehorai sat down.

He let go of the terrible wound in his belly and held her hands in his blood-covered grip. "No, Sarah, you will not heal me," he said quietly, pain writ large on his face, but his determination did not flag. His breath came in a hiss, and yet he smiled. "We shedim always thought it was a curse, that a terrible betrayal would set us free, only to bind us worse. We never knew it could be a gift of love, and true freedom."

Sarah stared at him, and with understanding came horror. "You can't be serious, Nehorai. You don't know that this is what was meant, it can't be. Please, you cannot leave me, love," and her voice broke as she stared at him with dread and fear on her colorless face.

Nehorai smiled at her. "The shedims' voice will be heard when friend sacrifices friend, and heartblood runs red to the ground. And the price for their voices will be their freedom, and they will be bound until the end of time."  
He spoke with an effort. "Of all shedim I am the first and the only to have made friends with other kindreds, Sarah, and I have seen sights that my people have never beheld. Yet our children long for a place in the world, too, Sarah. But they are locked into the mists or face death. Now we can give their future to them. If you love me, Sarah, you must let me go."  
He looked at her imploringly. "The sacrifice is mine as much as yours, Sarah, for I will give up all our tomorrows for the children to find their place in the world."  
He held on tightly to her hands. "You need to bind us all to the labyrinth as you did with Bergljot, Sarah. This is what the prophecy meant," and the urgency in his voice cut through Sarah's desperate tears.

"I would be binding the shedim to the goblin kingdom forever, Nehorai, and they can never leave it until the end of time. Is that truly what you want for your people? Please, let me help you, Nehorai, we can try to find a way to help the shedim somehow, I swear it to you, just let me heal you, we'll find a way together." Sarah was crying like a child, her face red and hopeless.

"We are prisoners already, Sarah, and you know it. Only in the mists are my people safe, and we have not left them since Jareth offered us sanctuary. My death will give them all of the kingdom, and the companionship of the other kindreds. I have been happy in my years with you when I had thought my live was over, after the man without a name murdered my family. Don't make me beg, Sarah. I don't want to leave you, but I must."  
He got up, pain contorting his face, and embraced Sarah's shaking body gently, and his blood stained her shirt as she held on to him as tightly as she dared.  
"I have not sung the song of joy since Chanina and Shai were murdered, but don't you think it would be very fitting for when we break the curse?"

Sarah cried uncontrollably, but she nodded her head and nearly managed to smile at him through her tears. Nehorai stood up straight, one hand pressing on his belly and the other one clutching Sarah's hand, and as his heartblood ran red to the ground, he began to sing the song of joy that had not passed over his lips since it had died in his heart with the death of his family. She held on tightly, desperately to Nehorai's hand, and completely went into the mind link with the labyrinth, little of herself left in her body.

And with all the magic of the labyrinth she searched through the bright strands of existence and gathered those that were shedim in the tapestry of life in the labyrinth, and she slowly, patiently began to weave their shimmering tresses into the very warp and weft of the labyrinth, until there was no telling where one began and the other ended. In the mists all shedim felt the gentle touch of the goblin queen on their souls, and they laid down their work, and their eyes went blind as the labyrinth drew their minds into the presence of what would both free and bind them forever.

And through it all Nehorai's pain-wracked voice rang out in the song of joy, clear and strong over the valley, and one by one the voices of the shedim joined him in the union of a song of power, and their voices were raised in the absolute repudiation of despair, the triumph of hope and the trust in a better tomorrow. And for the first time since the beginning of time the voices of the shedim were heard by the kindreds of the underground in all their purity and passion, and as the song carried over the battlefield, the fighting died down, and a hush fell over all in the valley. Those who had been compelled to battle by the will of the man without a name stood in deep absorption, unmoving and their faces turned to the sky, and their eyes closed against the midday sun. As the song of joy broke down the compulsion, tears began to run down their faces as they dropped their weapons, peasants and soldiers alike.

And on the hill top Sarah was pulled back into her body, and she felt Nehorai stumble and caught his light body in the falling. She collapsed on the ground cradling his body in her arms, and Eek gave what assistance he could. And while the shedim offered the song of joy to the Underground, Sarah held her dying friend in her arms, and what they told each other in these last minutes of his life neither Sarah nor Eek would ever talk about again.

When finally the voices of the shedim fell silent, Sarah kneeled in the bloody dirt cradling Nehorai's dead body close to hers, her shirt and hands stained with his blood, her face and hair streaked red. She sat there, swaying back and forth, her hand convulsively smoothing the feathers of Nehorai's face and head and talking to his dead form in a voice too low to hear, and her eyes were bright and dry. Eek wrapped Nehorai's cloak around her shrunken form and sat next to his queen to warm her, and while she did not seem to notice him, sometimes her hand would touch him and hold on to his warmth, and he was content. The labyrinth quietly created a sphere of protection around its chosen and called upon its goblins to guard the queen.

* * *

Down in the valley the goblin king and his generals had their hands full for several hours.  
While the battle had been mostly over when the song of joy had dissolved the compulsion of their opponents, those of the nobles from Ardar Iforas who fought from hatred and fury and not compulsion would not lay down their swords, but they were outnumbered and quickly overcome or killed. Yet the goblin king and the leaders of his army still needed to coordinate the care of the wounded and the freed hostages, and Jareth found to his chagrin that he even needed to organize the provisioning and accommodation for his erstwhile enemies, for as they had suspected, the men and women they had faced in battle had been torn from their land without preparation or warning, and were in dire need of succor. So it was mid-afternoon before the king and his advisors managed to meet to try to get an idea of what had happened.

Despite being in the thick of fighting, Tiernan had managed to get through the battle with nary a scratch. "Didn't you say your magic was blocked beyond the border of the goblin kingdom, Jareth? You could have saved us quite some losses had you actually used this release spell earlier."

Porr answered with some heat before Jareth had a chance to say a word. "Jareth was in the middle of a fight with a fae noble from Ardar Iforas when the song of power began, so it wasn't him. He would not hold back on his magic for tactical reasons while his own are dying, lord Tiernan, the goblin kingdom does not do like the other demesnes. I suspect that lady Sarah must have had something to do with this."

The goblin king was filthy and covered in gore and blood, as he had come off his horse in battle, but he was an experienced fighter and had walked away without a serious wound. "I believe you are right, Porr. I do not know how it is possible, but these were the voices of the shedim that broke the compulsion." The faces around him twisted in disbelief. "The lady Sarah has spent years with the shedim, and it would seem that she has found a power among them that has escaped the underground." Jareth's teeth shone white from his grinning face. "Let us go and see what the lady has to say."

* * *

So in high spirits they set out to talk to the queen, and Jareth transported them the short distance from the valley to the tip of the hill. Yet the men's face turned grey as they caught sight of the queen, covered in dried blood, kneeling on the ground with the dead body of a shedim in her lap and her body rocking mindlessly. Fast as quicksilver Jareth moved over to Sarah and crouched in front of the empty-eyed woman in a heartbeat, and he took in her half-mad eyes and the despair that rendered her face ugly. Eek held on to his queen with desperate care. "Is not Sarra's blood on her clothes, her body not be hurt," he said simply, and Jareth gave him a nod.

Sarah looked at him in a moment of recognition, and she smiled at him for a split second. "You live."

"And so does Toby, Sarah," he told her urgently, and it seemed she might say something else, but the moment passed and her eyes grew distant again. Disinterestedly she turned back her attention from him to Nehorai's body in her arms, and again did she begin to sway as she pulled the cooling body close to hers.

Jareth stood up, his face set in grim lines, and he moved into his mindlink with the labyrinth to learn what had happened.

_Why did you not tell me?_

**THERE IS NOTHING YOU COULD HAVE DONE, CHOSEN. YOU DID WHAT YOU NEEDED TO DO. **

_I might have been able to help her._

**NO. YOU CANNOT HELP HER, CHOSEN, AS I CANNOT. **

_She loves you, she is bound to you. How can you not comfort her?_

**SHE KNOWS I AM HERE. YET LOVE FROM THE LIVING WILL NOT COMFORT HER. HAD SHE DIED, I WOULD LOVE YOU STILL, BUT YOU COULD NOT TAKE AWAY THE PAIN. THERE IS NO COMFORT UNTIL SHE CAN FEEL LIFE IN HERSELF AGAIN. **

The goblin king turned to his advisors. "Set up camp," he ordered curtly and turned back to Sarah's small figure crouched in the dirt. With a series of complex gestures he set up further protections around the queen, and the air around her turned warm and balmy and the ground she knelt on was warm and soft, cushioning her prone body.

Ningyo looked at the broken woman with pity. "Nehorai died defending her, did he not?"

"How did you know it is Nehorai?" It came out as a snarl.

Ningyo looked at his king and answered gently. "The lady Sarah was never without her shadow or her goblin, yet now there is only Eek and the queen, and Nehorai's bloody cloak lies over her shoulder. Whom else would the lady Sarah mourn but Nehorai? Who attacked them?"

"The man without a name had sent out men to kill her." Jareth's face turned cold and terrifying. "Yet the queen is as hard to kill as I am. He will regret ever attacking us and the goblin kingdom."

* * *

Sarah spend the night on the hilltop cradling the body of the friend she had loved, and she was oblivious to all else. The goblin king held restless guard over the queen and the camp, and the deaths of battle weighed heavily on him. All over the camp were others like Sarah who mourned the loss of friends and lovers in battle, and pain hung thick over the fires. In the valley, like Sarah held Nehorai, Toby held Heulwen's dead body in his arms, his eyes dry because there were no tears left in him, and his heart was frozen and inconsolable. The Carmarthen Fianna stood guard over the body of their friend, and their pain burned bright in them.

When the sun rose the next morning and lit the sky over the quiet men and women in the valley and the hills, throwing its light over the tired and hurting people crouched around the fires, a small flock of ravens circled slowly over the hill and landed near the goblin king's tent, turning into a group of shedim before the eyes of the onlookers. Before any of the terror-stricken observers could do or say anything, however, a young shedim woman addressed the goblin king in a lovely soprano voice that carried well beyond the fire to reach all who crowded the valley.

"The queen's shadow, Nehorai of the Shedim, died to break the curse on our kindred, majesty, and the queen bound us to the goblin kingdom until the end of days. Our voices will never again turn a mind to madness, and we are at your command. We came to beg you to allow us to help in the war, my king." The terrified faces of the listeners slowly relaxed as understanding stole into their minds and they took in the full meaning of the woman's words, and a whisper and a story quickly moved from fire to fire.

Jareth's heart constricted in pity. So Sarah had been forced to let her friend die, able to help him yet not, and he wished with all his heart she had never been forced to make such a choice.

His voice gave away none of his thoughts. "I am glad you and your brethren have come to join us, lady Urit. The goblin queen grieves for Nehorai whom she loved, and with her grieve many in my army who have lost someone close to their heart. I would ask you to convince the queen to join you in the lament for the dead to send those who died for the goblin kingdom to the night as they deserve."

And Jareth touched the minds of the oathbound and he told them to lay out their dead. He led the shedim where Sarah huddled and lifted the protections around the queen. Jareth stepped back as they walked up to his queen and surrounded her with light voices and lighter touches, and he saw them cry for Nehorai and Sarah, but Sarah's face remained unmoving and without tears.

All over the valley people stood and carefully eased onto the ground the dead bodies of their beloved, unmoving and quiet, as if they were asleep. And if they were oathbound or those that had been forced to fight against the goblin kingdom, they all carefully arranged the clothes of their dead and kissed their mouths, and put their final gifts into the hands of those they loved. And like too many others, golden Heulwen lay pale and cold on the earth, the blood and filth lovingly washed off her face and hands, her corn-colored hair carefully brushed, and a clean tunic covered her death wound. The Heqet charm on her throat stood out as a stark reminder of what would never be. Her friends pulled Toby from his wife's dead body, and they stood bowed and cried for her.

Jareth never knew how the shedim managed to talk the queen into a semblance of coherence, but at length she rose from the ground, stiff and remote, but she gently laid out the still body of Nehorai on the ground and smoothed the feathers on his face and kissed him a last time before she rose. Jareth joined the small group on the knell, and he stood close behind Sarah, both of them straight and unbowed in the sunrise.

And as the morning sun poured its red-gold light over the dead laid out in the valley and on the hill, the goblin king, the goblin queen and the shedim lifted their voices in the lament for the dead. With all the power of the labyrinth and the magic inherent in the shedim song of power, the lament washed over the lifeless bodies, friend and foe alike, until they shimmered and began to loose definition at the edges, slowly dissolving into pale light that finally died, leaving behind nothing but memory. And the people of the goblin kingdom were not the only ones who shed tears at the passing of those who died, for their erstwhile opponents cried with them, and their tears were as true.


	13. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER XII**

And so, scarce four weeks after they had first learned of the army amassing at their border, the king and the queen returned to the goblin city. The oathbound who had joined them in battle had gone back to their villages and farms, and the warrior mages from Annwyn and Danu had returned to their posts along the borders, so it was only a few hundred people who accompanied the king and queen. And while they had won the battle, the threat of the man without a name was still hidden, and the price they paid for their victory had been high, for they had lost more than a tenth of their own.

Sarah took to her rooms and did not leave them for weeks, and Eek never strayed from his queen's side. In all this time she would only see her goblins and refused any visitors. When finally she did emerge from her seclusion, her chocolate-brown hair was touched with white, like hoarfrost, and her fire was quenched. The goblin queen began to tend to her duties quietly, and she did not join the war council any longer. Yet she took over many meetings in the goblin city, some of which the goblin king had no time to attend, and others where the goblin queen's presence would be an asset. She even began to join the audiences with the delegations from the other demesnes in the goblin kingdom. And if the queen was quiet and restrained, her occasional questions showed a keen understanding of the matters at hand, but she never offered her opinions nor joined in any decisions Jareth made. And if there was a banquet or a ball, Sarah would show up without fail, garbed in the glorious robes of the goblin queen, and if she was not as lively or witty as she had been, neither was she as short-tempered and opinionated. She was gracious to a fault to all who talked to her, and finally even flirted delicately with the many smitten courtiers who flocked about. Tiernan was foremost among them, his obvious admiration well noted at court, as was the queen's easy manners and teasing familiarity, and many looked at him with envy. Yet none of them seemed to realize that the goblin queen's heart was frozen and void of feeling, and she cared naught about any she spend time with.

And even though Sarah did not concern herself any more with the war in her waking hours, from the darkness of her dreams her pain unknowingly protected her people still. Every night a fog the color of dried blood rose from the Haliakmon, the Naryn and all other rivers and lakes in the goblin kingdom, and as it drifted slowly over the land, it brushed the minds of the oathbound and the peaceful denizens of the goblin kingdom with a fleeting memory of love and loss. Yet when it touched on the presence of any who acted to harm the labyrinth and its people, the darkness enveloped its hapless victim in ever thickening tendrils of congealing fog. For a few short days, lifeless bodies of what had seemed to be but harmless foreign travelers or traders would be found in road side camps and inns, their open eyes staring in terror at their death, but soon any who still lived had fled the goblin kingdom, never to return. Yet Sarah never knew what she had wrought, and had she known she would not have cared.

And so Sarah walked like a shadow in her own life, and nothing she did mattered enough to leave a trace in her mind. There were only a few things in her grey days that touched her heart any longer, and unknowingly she clung to them. She still made time for her sword training in the morning with Eirlys, both of them quiet and withdrawn, and if the women did not talk much, their urgency and desperation saw the queen's fair abilities with weapons improve rapidly. And without fail she spent time every day with Toby, and they would sit and talk about nothing or be quiet together, or they would fly over the goblin kingdom . Sometimes they would spar with each other, and their loss took form as they attacked each other with all the fury and pain in their hearts.

* * *

The changes in the goblin queen did not go unnoticed. At the glittering Imbolc ball Sarah was in attendance, resplendent in a kirtle of pale green silk, like the first spring leaves of a birch tree, laced close to her body over a primrose-yellow chemise of the finest silk under an embroidered tabard, her head crowned with a wreath of cherry and almond blossoms, and as she danced gracefully with the lord Hurin from Matagamon, all smiles and human allure, the lord Tiernan turned to his brother.

"I believe despite all the sad occurrences of the past months, something good has come of it after all. Lady Sarah is shaping up to be a very creditable queen, don't you think, Jareth? She reminds me of mother, if this can be said of a human woman. It seems she finally understands that there are limitations to what she can do, and that it is better to leave the tough work in the hands of men who know what they are doing. It is a pity that it took the death of her guard to teach her, but it is her own fault. She should not have been there, playing at being a warrior queen of old. She has calmed down and finally behaves with the decorum that behooves a lady. The court is enchanted with her, have you noticed?" He drank deep from his glass of fire wine and looked at Jareth with a grin. "But she seems to have gone off you, brother, she won't even get angry with you any more, much less smile. Do you mind if I court the lady? She would be a helpmeet any man would be glad to call his own, and as all humans she is most alluring. Yet I will not poach in your reserve, brother. What do you say?"

Jareth looked at his brother with wry amusement. "The lady Sarah is not mine to keep or give away, Tiernan, and far be it from me to stand in your way. And while I cannot understand why you would court a human woman when all you admire in her are the qualities of a fae lady, I would not expect anyone to be guided by my changeable opinions in whom they woo. I wish you luck, Tiernan, you will need it."

Tiernan gave his brother a jaunty bow and claimed Sarah for the next dance, ready for his next move in the courting of the queen.

"I cannot tell you how glad I am that we followed you to the goblin kingdom, Jareth," Ikiaq said matter-of-factly from Jareth's side. The castellaine had come up unnoticed and overheard much of the conversation between the brothers, and her face showed nothing but exasperation. "Tiernan is bright, and he has traveled widely, and yet I am amazed how his mind can so determinedly stay closed to understanding." She looked at Jareth dryly. "He believes that fae were born to rule all, and no other kindred can hold against them, or is worth as much. I don't think you ever held this belief, how could you with me as your milk-mother and Nerromiktok your sister? Which is why the labyrinth chose you I suppose. Yet why is Tiernan's mind so closed?" She shook her head. "His remarks about Sarah make me doubt if he is as smart as I thought. Who can look at her and not despair? I am worried about her, Jareth, it has been over a year since the battle, yet she walks with her dead still. She never cries for Nehorai." When Jareth mustered her with raised eyebrows, she looked at him a defensively. "Well, she never swore an oath to stop me from keeping an eye on her, and anyway, it's not snooping when the goblins talk to me."

"Leave her be, Ikiaq, she needs to heal at her own pace, and nothing you or anyone does will change this. Nehorai has been at her side since the binding, the underground and all she knows tied to his presence. They have traveled the goblin kingdom together for long years, and I think they have fought in each others defense more often than we can ever know. She lost one whom she loved as much as herself."

"I know Nehorai was her shadow, and he loved her as she loved him. The queen needed to be part of the battle, and so did he. None of you might live had she not blocked the magic of the man without a name. Tiernan is an ass, Nehorai's death was not her fault," Ikiaq said with unaccustomed heat.

"If you lay dying, Ikiaq, and I could save you, yet your death would be necessary for the labyrinth, my choice would have to be hers, mother," and he put his hand on his milk-mother's shoulder. "And yet, how do you live with such a decision, without hating yourself and the world? She loved Nehorai, and she cannot see life without him, only that she let him die. She needs to find her own way out of her darkness, Ikiaq, and nothing will hurry it." Jareth was more serious than was his wont, and Ikiaq looked at him astonished. "And Tiernan is in for a surprise, for the goblin queen is as asleep now, but I doubt her memory is equally encumbered." He looked at Sarah in the arms of Tiernan on the dance floor with a grin showing his teeth. "Sarah doesn't take kindly to being patronized, and she holds grudges very well."

"All these years I have known you, Jareth, and yet I never knew that you showed such a care and understanding of others. But perhaps this is a recent development?" Ikiaq gave him a much-too-knowing smile, and Jareth decided it was an excellent time to be looking for a dance partner of his own.

* * *

As so often in the last months, Sarah woke up in inky darkness after too little sleep, and as she lay motionless in her bed, she knew she would in vain be searching for the release of slumber. She craved the oblivion of sleep, for only then did she find peace. In the beginning, she had woken from nightmares too often, her heart beating in faceless terror, her face wet with unremembered tears, until at length the labyrinth had ruthlessly taken over her dreams to protect its chosen. Since then her dreams had become her only escape, when she would glide on spread wings in the thermals over the frozen lake in the Queen's Palisades, her mind empty of all but air and sun and wind, or when she felt the rain on her sleek striped body hunting the vast grass planes of the Plains of Ashes, green and fresh in the new cycle, all of her attention and concentration on the sounds of the small animals in the fresh green grass, the thrill of discovery, the exultation of the chase; and in these gifts of the labyrinth she left behind her memories and pain. But her respite was always too brief, too fleeting, as she woke up only a few short hours after she had gone to sleep, even though she drove herself to exhaustion every day.

Sarah did not bother to put a robe over her chemise, for when she walked the castle in her burning wakefulness she was cloaked in the power of the labyrinth, and none would see her though she might pass within a breath of them. Yet it was at least four hours to sunrise, and at this time nothing stirred in the castle, as even those who moved secretly to beds not their own under the cover of the night had long since found their way to their lovers, and they would not bestir themselves to return for hours to come. Like a restless spirit Sarah walked the long halls and corridors, haunting the kitchens and the galleries, and her every step was shadowed in her mind by a beloved presence she would not see in this life again, and she could not leave behind neither her pain nor her guilt.

And as always she walked until her heart was numb and her body was exhausted. Sarah was ready to go back to her rooms when she found herself before the one door she had not passed in all the months' of Nehorai's death, the one place in the castle that she had shied away from when she had roamed aimlessly. Sudden fury distorted her features, and with shaking hands Sarah opened the door the goblin king's rooms.

The king's goblin guards were not alarmed when an angry queen dressed in only a cambric chemise walked through the antechambers with furious purpose, and Sed opened the door to Jareth's bedroom for her quickly. When he had quietly closed the door again, the goblins shared a pleased smile. Finally, the queen was angry. It was time.

Sarah stood in the darkness by the door, her eyes only just taking in the dim outline of the room, barely visible in the starlight peeking through the open windows, when the whole room brightened slightly with a golden glow, as if an invisible candle had been lit. Her head jerked to the bed, to see Jareth sit up unhurriedly and set away a cobalt dagger, shimmering in deadly blue, on the low table at the head of his bed. He looked at her with an unreadable expression in his face and rose, naked and unashamed, and his beauty took Sarah's breath away, and heat rose in her belly. Jareth walked up to the tense woman with the grace and allure of a snow panther and looked at her without smile. He lifted his hand to her face, slow enough to for her to move back had she wanted to, and he touched her lips with his fingertips. Sarah's world contracted and her breath froze in her chest, and the only thing she could still perceive was Jareth's presence. With a snarl she drew back her hand and hit him in the face with all her strength. Jareth's head snapped back, and when he turned his face back to her, he smiled as blood ran from his split lip. He seized Sarah by the shoulders and drew her into a violent kiss, and the burning touch of skin touching skin pushed both of them over the edge of sanity and control.

Much later Sarah lay on her back on the bed and her head rested on Jareth's arm, her breathing still harsh and labored, her body slick with sweat. Her eyes open and her mind empty of all but sensation, tears began to run from her eyes as her shoulders started to shake, and harsh sobs broke from her. Jareth took her into a tight embrace as Sarah began to cry helplessly, hopelessly, wailing with pain and despair until her eyes were dry and her voice was ragged, and trembling she held on to Jareth's hard body as if it was the only thing that would save her from drowning. He held her for a long time after she had stopped shaking, but at length Sarah extricated herself from his arms and rose from the bed without looking at him. She picked her chemise from the floor and put it on, then left the room without turning back. In all the time since she had entered Jareth's room, neither of them had spoken a word.

When she reached her rooms again, having passed through the corridors like a wraith, she stood before her mirror for a long time and stared at her reflection with blind eyes, until she finally turned away and went back to her bed, succumbing to dreamless sleep within minutes. And as always, part of her as much as her heartbeat, the labyrinth moved in her mind and shored up her spirit, and though she had shared the first emotions other than pain she had felt since Nehorai died with her chosen, she did not know it.

Sarah went though the days that followed in the same dead haze as before, but sometimes, before she was to meet the goblin king, her heart seized in fear, anticipation, fury, she knew not. Yet Jareth treated the queen as he always had, with arrogant charm and roguish address, and it was as if the night she had spent in his arms had never happened. Sarah smiled to herself, and she knew that it had been an aberration, and she did not know nor care what had happened, because it would not come to pass again.

And when she found herself again at the door of his rooms another night, she wanted to turn away but found that she could not bring herself to leave, and she came to him as angry as the first time, and there was no tenderness in her but anger and loss, and when she cried in his arms for pain and despair, she would not look at him and left him without a word before the sun came up.

* * *

And so it went for months. The goblin queen would flee back to her rooms from the arms of the goblin king and vow to never go back again, and she would fight the loneliness and despair building in her, while time seemed to pass slower and her need for comfort grew greater with every day. She denied herself the only touch that soothed the pain in her soul and filled the dark emptiness that engulfed her days. Sarah knew with mounting fear that she was dragged back into feeling again, and it terrified her, as she could not bear the thought of living without the pain of her loss, for would it not be a betrayal? And yet always on some night on her wanderings through the castle she would find herself at the king's rooms, and the cycle would repeat.

One night Sarah rose after their love-making and picked a silk blanket from the floor as she walked over to the window. Sitting on the wide sill, the blanket wrapped around herself against the cool breeze, she looked over the sleeping goblin city and the labyrinth, resplendent under the light of the double full moons. She heard the rustling of bedclothes behind her as Jareth rose, but she did not turn. From the corner of her eye she saw him sit down on the wide ledge with his back against the thick wall, and with strong arms he gathered her up and pulled her close against his naked body, one arm around her waist and his other hand resting on her collarbone, and his fingers caressed the soft skin of her throat. Sarah felt her heartbeat speed up and leaned back into his hard chest, her head resting against his shoulder, and his touch filled all her senses. When she turned her head, she felt her temple graze his jaw. His arm on her waist tightened.

"You know I do not love you, goblin king," she said with as much disdain in her voice as she could muster.

The burning caress of his fingers neither faltered nor stopped. "Perhaps you do not yet, Sarah, but you will." His voice held neither doubt nor arrogance, and Sarah stiffened as pain exploded in her chest and strangled her breathing.

"You are a conceited bastard, goblin king, arrogant and cruel. This means nothing to me, less than nothing, and I care nothing about you. What do you know of love and its pain? I do not care to love again, and least of all you." Sarah's breath escaped in a hiss as his warm breath touched the burning skin of her neck and a shudder ran through her softening body.

Jareth's voice caressed her like the gentlest touch of fingertips, and his voice was dark and sweet. "Tiernan and many other men in court would give riches uncounted and magic untold to hold you like this, my lady. Yet it is my rooms you come to when your pain leads you to wander the night, it is my embrace you choose when you seek release, and it is my arms that hold you when you cry." His voice was sure and untroubled by her spite. "I will wait forever for you to love me, Sarah."

And he forestalled her anger by pulling her tight into a passionate embrace, his hands moving hungrily over her body as he kissed her neck, and nothing broke the silence of the night but the sounds of their passion.

* * *

The months passed, and the goblin queen slowly and inexorably found herself lured back into life again, and if she fought the loss of the comforting lethargy and the peace of detachment, she could hold on to aloofness no more than she could keep herself away from the goblin king's embraces. As the days began to shorten, the queen gazed out of a window during a meeting one morning, and she noticed with surprise that the leaves on the trees had begun to change color, and the morning light shone low and red into the room. Sarah wondered how she had missed the change of seasons, and she realized with a start that she barely knew what month it was. She somehow made it though the meeting without betraying her mental absence and made her excuses as soon as she could, retreating into the castle gardens. For the first time for longer than she could remember she took in the beauty of the late flowers, purple bee balm and white phlox, asters and dahlias growing in a riot of autumn colors in low beds, and a wilderness of multicolored yarrow bloomed along the walls. The air was abuzz with the low hum of bees, and the sweet smell of the flowers wafted through the enclosed garden. She walked to a bench dappled with sunlight, partially shaded by late-blooming wild roses, and she sat down and basked lazily in the late-summer warmth as Eek sneaked up on her and jumped on her lap, then rolled himself up like a cat for a nap.

In the back of her mind Sarah felt, as always, the presence of the labyrinth, and as always she knew herself held in its love and care, and she felt a surge of joy and opened her whole being to it to share. She was not yet ready to converse with the labyrinth, but for the first time for longer than she cared to remember she was completely conscious of its eternal presence in her mind and knew herself a part of the labyrinth again.

When Eek sneezed in her lap as a ray of sunlight had tickled his nose, Sarah opened her eyes and looked at him quizzically.

"How long is it until Samhain, Eek?"

"Near a sennight, Sarra. They are busy all over castle preparing for the feast. Don't you remember, Sarra? You promise lord Tiernan the first dance."

"We won't be here for the ball," she smiled at her goblin quietly. She remembered the last time she had celebrated Samhain, before Nehorai had died at the border. While she knew that this was the second year since his death, she could not recollect what she had done last year. As she tried to recall as much as she could since the battle at the border, she found that nothing of the last two years was to be found in her memory but the nights she had spent in Jareth's arms. She knew she had been at countless meetings, receptions and balls, but she could recall no detail of anything that had happened. "We will go to the mists, Eek, to celebrate with the shedim." She smiled at the goblin in her lap. "Nehorai would be happy to know that I keep up my visits, and I want to sing with my friends again."

And with quiet, unobtrusive determination Sarah prepared for her journey to the mists, and she told the goblin king and the court at a dinner two days later that she was leaving the day after. She found to her surprise that Jareth wished her godspeed on her journey, with a undecipherable smile on his face, and opposition to her plan came from the side of the courtiers, Tiernan foremost among them. Yet Sarah was not dissuaded, and she answered to all objections with sweet reason and iron determination, and she did not show her exasperation at the possessive and somewhat patronizing arguments Tiernan put up until she finally retired. When had Tiernan got the impression that he had a right to tell her what she could do? Sarah thought for sure she would remember if anything had happened between them that would allow him to come to the conclusion he could dictate her actions. She guiltily thought that her smiling docility and her vacuous but meaningless flirtations might have given him the wrong impression, and she knew that she would need to talk to her friend when she came back to clear the air between them.

* * *

As the first rays of the sun poked orange and bright over the horizon, Sarah turned into her birdshape and took to the air, and she flew for two days and two nights until she reached the borderlands of reality in the heart of the goblin kingdom and turned back to her human body. She waited but a short time until Eek joined her, for goblins, being part of the labyrinth, could appear and disappear at any place within the goblin kingdom at will. The queen's goblin took up his usual spot on Sarah's shoulder and she walked into the mists with a smile on her face. As she made her way through the ever-changing landscape, unerringly heading for the shedim's village, for the first time since Nehorai's death she felt her every step not followed by his absence as much as his presence. Sarah knew in her heart that while she would miss him until the end of time, she was finally able to let his memory walk in peace on the other side of night and accept the emptiness and pain where his love had been. Nothing she could do or say would ever change his death, and she would rejoice in what he had given his people, as much as he had.

The shedim were glad at the goblin queen's return and greeted her with the warmth of family, and she was not alone from the moment that she arrived. Sarah looked at the familiar, grey-feathered faces of the shedim and listened to their beautiful voices, and she felt an unexpected peace settle on her. Seated among them, two rambunctious children happily climbing all over her, she held a mug of larak in her hands and listened with interest to the stories that the shedim told her. For the first time since the battle Sarah inquired what the man without a name had wrought since his defeat at the border. In many ways the land seemed safer now than it had been. In the wee hours of every night a fog like congealing blood rose from the waters, and as it slowly drifted over the land before it dissolved, it made short work of any who meant harm to the land. And if nobody knew what caused the fog, the gratitude of the people ran deep. The shedim earned their place in the kingdom, one day after another, as by the king's decree they now worked alongside the warrior mages along the borders and all through the country. Four or five shedim accompanied each group of mages on their journeying between the settlements, and upon their arrival all in the village would gather. The shedim then joined their voices in a song of power, and whatever hold the will of the man without a name might have had on the spirit of any of the people would fall away as the purity of the song of joy broke all enchantments and dark bindings. The shedim grew strong ties of friendship with the fae they accompanied, and their gentleness and kind spirit quickly broke down the prejudices still harbored by the kindreds of the goblin kingdom. The story how the queen's shadow had sacrificed himself and his queen's love for his people was a yarn told often, and in countless variations, at firesides, and meeting the shedim was the final small step to overcome whatever fears might yet lurk in the kindreds' mind. As Nehorai had hoped, his death had given his people a place in the world, and as they moved among other kindreds, they rejoiced in the friendships they made among other people.

Sarah blinked away the tears as she listened to the Shedims' exited descriptions of the places they had seen, and the people they had met, and through the biting pain of her loss she knew that Nehorai had had the courage and the selflessness to do what she understood she would not have been able to.

Yet there were darker news as well. Even though the citizens of the goblin kingdom were safer now, the visitations of Babdh in the borderlands had not ceased but spread out all along the northern borders of the kingdom. Now the trade routes to Ardar Iforas lay under siege just as it was in desperate need of succor as a new queen tried to rebuild a country run to destruction by a careless king. Khôràsan was likewise under attack as it depended heavily on trade with the goblin kingdom, and even the trade routes to Matagamon were assailed. Yet nobody had ever faced Babdh and lived to tell the tale, and now only large caravans with ample protection now kept the connection from the goblin kingdom to their northern neighbors open.

The lady Urit walked up to the goblin queen with a welcoming smile and refilled her mug with steaming larak, then she hung the iron pot over the fire and sat down next to Sarah. "We have been lucky so far, my lady Sarah, as none of us has perished at the border from Babdh's hand yet. She has never attacked any of the warrior mages, it seems she is afraid of their prowess." She looked at the queen and hesitated for a moment before she went on. "The goblin king sent word that we should expect your visit for Samhain a few weeks ago. He asked us to give you a reckoning of all that has happened since the battle, as you would need all the information that you could get."

Sarah looked at her in frank astonishment. "I did not know I was coming here a few weeks ago," she said with wonderment in her voice. She took a few moments to collect herself. "But he is right, Urit. I am shamefully ignorant of all that has happened since Nehorai's death," and for a moment her voice caught before she went on. "I have been derelict in my duties, and it is high time I learned what has happened."

The slight shedim woman smiled at her shyly and put her hand on Sarah's arm. "It is ever so, lady Sarah, and no dereliction of duty, to be numbed by pain when you loose one you love. Know, my queen, that we share your pain, and we understand the loss you suffered. Nehorai and you paid the price for our freedom, and his sacrifice is in our hearts and our minds always."

Sarah smiled at her through glittering eyes. "You better tell me what has happened in the last months, Urit, before I burst into tears like a child."

The young shedim looked at her with shadowed eyes. "Terrible things are happening to the labyrinth, my queen. We did not even know for many months that anything was wrong, for we thought we had struck a decisive blow against the man without a name, but we were mistaken."

Sarah looked at Urit in shock, and her eyes turned black and distant.

_Why did you not tell me? Are you hurt? I never knew anything wrong in your mind touch._

**YOU ARE FULLY AWAKE AGAIN, CHOSEN. WELCOME BACK TO THE LIVING. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT ME, FOR I AM NOT HURT. URIT WILL TELL YOU.**

Sarah turned her attention back to Urit who had waited patiently for the goblin queen to move out of the mindlink with the labyrinth.

"It was found in the last few months only, lady Sarah, that the man without a name is not beaten but is acting to harm us from within, and he is gathering power still. In the months after the battle the king has laid traps for our enemy, to catch him when next he took the life force and magic of one of ours, for the labyrinth has learned to recognize how it feels when a life is stolen. It seemed these attacks had ceased, yet then an odei found perchance the hidden dead bodies of several dwarfs in a ditch in the fens, their lives torn from them. This is when we first learned that the labyrinth does not know itself in some parts, nor its oathbound. There are areas within the goblin kingdom now which are like dead to the labyrinth, and it cannot feel anything there, nor observe. If you slept, lady Sarah, and someone cut strands off your hair in your sleep, how would you know that is gone? It is thus for the labyrinth. It never felt how these areas were stolen from its conscience, and so it does not know where or how many there are, nor what it means." Urit paused for breath as Sarah looked at her with horror. "The man without a name is in the goblin kingdom, lady Sarah, and the fog that destroys those of lesser power does not slay him." Yet the young shedim smiled Sarah. "It is good to have you back, my queen." With these words she stood up and held out her hand to Sarah. "There is nothing for you to do now, lady Sarah, so rest and celebrate with us. Now that you are back among your people, you have time to plan with the king and the labyrinth what can be done, my lady."

And Sarah did as Urit told her, and she walked among the shedim in gladness, and in the eager company of his people she recounted for them her life with Nehorai and his death, of which she had never talked before. And the goblin queen told the Shedim who had taken her in when she had just been brought to the Underground, the first people who had loved her when she had been ignorant and fearful, that it was their knowledge to block the magical power of others had saved the goblin kingdom in battle. Nehorai had taught her the Shedim way, and with all her power she had been able to keep her people safe and could foil the plans of the man without name.

When she went to her room in the evening, she merged with the labyrinth as she had done in the beginning, and as their minds mingled she learned all that there was to know about the last two years. And in the love and acceptance of the labyrinth's mind she understood that there was no apology necessary for her withdrawal and the silence of her pain, for the labyrinth had been part of her since the binding and knew her heart and soul better than she did herself. For even she never let the labyrinth comfort her, it knew her love and despair and it waited patiently until its chosen had healed herself to accept love again.

* * *

The Samhain celebration gave comfort to Sarah that she had neither expected nor believed possible. All shedim, spread out through the goblin kingdom as though they were now, came to their homes in the Mists for Samhain to celebrate another year with their brethren, and under the golden Hunter's moon and its smaller purple companion the ceremony began with a passionate hymn that Sarah had never heard before. As she listened, tears began to run down her face as she understood it for what it was - a simple hymn of gratitude to the one who had given his life and his dreams to free his people for naught but love. The magic woven by the song was powerful, and Sarah felt joy stealing into her heart as she shared both the sadness and love the Shedim held for their dead brother.

Urit turned to the queen. "Whenever we meet now, lady Sarah, this is the first song of power that we share, and it will be thus until the end of time. Nehorai and you have set us free, my queen, and we Shedim will not forget." Sarah smiled at the young woman, and when she joined the kindred in the song of joy, she felt its hope and light touch her core. And Sarah knew that in dying Nehorai had sung of life, and the darkness in his mind had finally been conquered.

The goblin queen spent the next weeks in the constant loving companionship of the Shedim, and their understanding and gentleness eased her sometimes abrupt manner and the long silences that she found difficult to fill with words. While many of the Shedim left the mists to re-join their missions, Urit stayed close to the queen, and Sarah talked to her much like she had to Nehorai. In the weeks that passed, Sarah gained a deeper understanding of the challenges and the problems facing the kingdom, and she found Urit's advice to be thoughtful and unusual. The quiet of the mists allowed Sarah to gather herself before she returned to the goblin city, and by the time she took her leave she was much in possession of herself again, and ready to face whatever she had to. She kissed Urit good-bye and smiled at the young Shedim woman. "I am looking forward to seeing you again, Urit. I had not thought it possible to recover myself in but a few weeks, but the Shedim and the Mists seem to work wonders on me. I want to thank you for your kindness and your understanding. I am glad to know that Nehorai was not unique among his kindred but that he was typical of the Shedim. I am honored, lady Urit, by your friendship and all the selfless aid you have given me. Wish me luck. I think I will need it."

She grinned at the young woman and changed to her birdshape, and she took to the air fast, making her way out of the Mists without delay.

* * *

When Sarah returned to the goblin kingdom after more than a moon, she succeeded to stay out of the goblin king's way for two days, and while the thought of just running off and roaming the roads again without facing him did cross her mind, neither her conscience nor her sense of duty would let her. So when she rose on the third morning, early as usual, she needed a long time getting ready, trying to look her best without appearing to have done so, and she spend an inordinate amount of time over breakfast. Yet finally she could postpone it no longer, and she went in search of Jareth. An irritatingly helpful guard told her where to find him, and much too soon she stood in front of the library, dreading the next minutes, and she took a deep breath and opened the door. Jareth and several of his ministers and clerks crowded around a map on the table, and when they heard her enter, they turned and bowed politely to the queen. The courtiers immediately began to draw her into a conversation, and she responded as politely as possible, but her patience, never too long in the first place, was running out fast. The goblin king stood slightly aloof, watching the scene with seeming coolness, but he was most interested in what the queen might have in mind, as even a cursory glance at her showed that she was restored to reason and emotion once again.

"I am very sorry, my lords, to have interrupted your meeting with the king, but I would not have come here unless it was important I talk to him." This did not stop the courtiers from chattering with her until she could take it no longer. "I have said it as nicely as possible, my lords, but it seems you are too thick to understand, so let me make myself crystal clear. Why don't you take yourself and your mind-numbingly boring talk somewhere else so I can talk to the king?" This finally had the desired effect, for the flustered courtiers fled the library as quickly as possible without giving the impression of running.

When the library was empty, Sarah turned to the goblin king and looked up at him determinedly. Jareth was lounging against the table and examined her carefully, his cool, composed face giving away nothing, and Sarah took a deep breath. "I must ask your forgiveness, goblin king," she managed with laudable fortitude, although her face was flushed deep scarlet and she had the hardest time looking at him.

His face got more forbidding with each of her words, and he spoke to her with a voice as cold as ice. "Indeed you do, my lady Sarah, but please, do elucidate on this pitiful explanation, as none in their right mind could consider this an apology."

In this moment Sarah hated him with all her heart, but she knew he deserved a proper apology, even though he might not accept it, and who was she to blame him? "I have treated you ill in these last months, goblin king, and I have taken advantage of the responsibility you must have felt for the woman the labyrinth chose for its queen, to share its powers with you. I know that it is not an excuse to plead the madness of grief for my behavior, goblin king, and all I can do is promise you that I will not impose on you again. I know I was never invited to your rooms, and I have treated you cruelly when you have been nothing but kind to me." Sarah looked at the fae king who seemed carved of ice, all white and silver, and the stillness and fathomless cold depth of his eyes made her wish for a quick death on the spot. She understood she would pay for the trespasses of the last months for a very long time. For a moment she closed her eyes so she did not have to see his harsh face, but then she pulled back her shoulders, straightened her back and looked him straight in the face again, her mortification writ large on her face.

"I do not know whether I can find it in me to forgive you, my lady Sarah, I have never been a man to easily forgive and forget. And I agree with you, your behavior has been execrable and well neigh unforgivable."

Sarah looked at him through a haze of roiling emotions and wondered if it was possible to die of shame and guilt. She could barely bring herself to stand before him and listen to his cruel, cold words, and yet she could feel the heat pool in her belly just from looking at him, and as always her desire for his touch was near overwhelming.

"You have been using me without care or thought, lady, and it has been the most degrading experience in a very long life. I feel quite used, and I do not know if can ever recover from this. I feel so ... worthless."

Sarah was so caught up in her own misery that his words took unduly long to penetrate the shame that cottoned her ears, but when his meaning finally hit home, she looked at him incredulously. To her shock she saw his lips twitch even as he struggled valiantly to keep his forbidding mien, but to no avail. A final glance at the confusion, dawning understanding and, unavoidable with Sarah, rising anger warring in her face, and Jareth burst into uncontrollable laughter, his shoulders shaking with mirth, until tears ran down his face. While Sarah was still desperately trying to get a hold of her conflicting emotions, he finally subdued his laughter and looked at her with wicked amusement.

"You cannot possibly blame me for goading you, Sarah, for nobody could have resisted the temptation you were offering up so generously. But really, my dear, is that why you have been hiding, and looking at me like a terrified doe? Because you took ... advantage of me?"

He looked at her, merriment dancing in his eyes. "I could have put an end to your visits at any time, Sarah, had I so wished, and yet I did not. The only thing I find hard to forgive is that you did not come to my rooms more often, my sweet. I was under the impression I did my utmost best to prove to you that I wholeheartedly approved, yes, rejoiced in your visits. I must say though, to claim that I was nothing but ... kind ... to you is damning with faint praise. I thought I did better than that. Really, Sarah, you are not usually this simple-minded." He smirked. "But as we all know, our own perception shapes our reality, lady, so I will offer you a chance to atone for your sins, for I know you will never be free of your guilt unless you can expiate your misdeeds." He smiled at her in an intimate way that made Sarah blush down to her toes and sauntered up to her until he stood but a hand-span away. He ran his leather-clad fingers softly along the line of her cheekbone and slowly traced her jaw, his eyes as wide and wild as hers and his breath hissing. Whatever anger Sarah had gathered to defend herself against his presence melted away, and she shivered under his touch.

"I may consider forgiving your trespasses, Sarah, if you promise to visit me again in my rooms," and all amusement had left his voice, suddenly urgent and low. "Indeed, I should be grateful and elated, Sarah," and he slowly lowered his face to hers, and the arousing touch of his lips against hers drove coherent thought out of her mind as always and she leaned into his kiss. Sarah felt his hand on her back pulling her closer to him as she buried her hands in his wild hair, abandoning common sense and prudence as she gave herself without restraint to his embrace.

When she finally could hold on to a thought again minutes later, she gasped and looked at Jareth wild-eyed. He looked no more composed than Sarah did, and the delighted smile on his face lit a strange feeling of joy in her heart, but she freed herself from his embrace determinedly and for safety sake took several steps back. "I have no idea what got into you, goblin king," she scolded him, though she could not repress the grin on her face. "Not even half your day's duties done, and here you are behaving most irresponsibly. You should be ashamed of yourself. I certainly am. Ashamed of you, that is. Your councilors are likely crowded outside and are wondering what the night could be so important that it could not wait until after the meeting."

Jareth did not give the impression of a man who cared a fig about what others thought of him, but he could read Sarah well enough, and his lady needed some time to gather her thoughts. For a moment he considered whisking her away to his rooms and making love to her until she could think no more, yet while the thought was most appealing, he did not feel that it would help his case any in the long run. He sighed with regret. "So I expect I will see you at the banquet tonight, Sarah? The court will be glad to see the queen, and I would be enchanted."

Sarah hesitated for a moment, but then acquiesced. "If you promise that your manners will be impeccable, Jareth, and you will not embarrass me, I might consider coming."

"Where is the fun in that?" He did not wait for her answer. "And Sarah, since you seem to have returned to your normal self, may I be so rude as to beg you not to come to the meetings with the delegations from the other demesnes any longer?"

The goblin queen flashed him a cheeky grin over her shoulder as she walked towards the door. "Now that I am back in possession of my faculties I do not want to shed anymore IQ points by listening to that mindless drivel, thank you. I will see you tonight then, Jareth."

He waited until her hand was on the handle of the door and called out silkily to her. "Oh, and Sarah - let me assuage any further doubts in your mind. You are always welcome to my rooms and to my bed, so please, do consider yourself having a standing invitation."

The goblin queen fled the room with a burning face, nearly running over the curious ministers outside in the corridor, and the goblin king's laughter echoed after her.

* * *

The next morning, after her sword training with Eirlys, Sarah went in search of Tiernan. She knew not what to expect from this conversation, but his reaction to her announcement that she would leave the city to go to the Shedim had started her thinking. She found him in his office, a large, businesslike room in the barracks, full of maps, folios and military bric-a-brac, deep in discussion with several soldiers, but when she entered his face lit up, and he dismissed the men with a few words. He walked up to her and took her hands in his, a smile on his face.

"Lady Sarah, what an unexpected pleasure," and he lifted her hand to his lips.

"I had no chance to talk to you since I returned from the Mists, lord Tiernan, and I feel I need to apologize for backing out from that dance I promised you for Samhain." She smiled at him, his open admiration and straightforward manners always lifted her mood, not to say anything about the joy of having a heart-stoppingly beautiful man flirt with you.

He laughed at her words. "I was only surprised, my lady Sarah, I had not realized you had other plans, and I fear I was a bit too forceful in my attempt to convince you to stay. But I am glad to see you, and I don't care what brings you here, really."

Sarah thought that Jareth could certainly learn a thing or two from his brother about how to treat a lady. "I am sure you have noticed, I have not really had plans for a very long time now, and once I realized I missed the Shedim, I did not really pay attention to anything else. I was very rude, lord Tiernan, but perhaps you will dance with me at the next reception? It seems I just woke up from a long sleep, and I seem to have sleepwalked through my life for much of the last two years." Was that clear? How the night did you ask a man if he was in love with you, and then tell him to forget about it? She had never given a "Dear John" speech before, and it might all be in her head anyway.

Tiernan smiled at her way that made her both weak in the knees and sick to her stomach. He was her friend! When had he begun courting her, and how had she missed it? She was not willing to submit to what he wanted from her, for he was as possessive a man as Jareth, and Sarah was not minded to give up who she was to bend to any man's expectations. Sarah did not need that headache, even though Tiernan was as attractive a man as she had ever fantasized about.

All these thoughts shot through Sarah's head in a confused jumble, and her face, expressive as ever, showed her confusion and her roiling emotions as she looked at Tiernan with wide eyes. His smile deepened, and he closed the distance between them in a moment, and before Sarah could gather her wits, he pulled her into an embrace and kissed her. It was not like a kiss from the goblin king, and Sarah thanked the stars for small favors. The touch of his lips did not tear her self control from her and render her blind and insensate to anything else, but it was still a kiss far superior to any others she had ever received. For a minute she let herself fall into the pure pleasure of uncomplicated desire and relished the wild taste and the fiery passion of Tiernan's embrace, but when she opened her eyes, she realized that if her self control was intact, the magic which flowed from her to him left him shaking in her arms, and he could not fight his hunger for her touch any more than Hurin from Matagamon had been able to. With horror she broke away from their embrace and began to stammer out half-incoherent apologies.

It took Tiernan a good few seconds to regain his self-control, and when he had forced a semblance of calm back to his features, he smiled at her if with some effort, and he spoke to her with laughter in his ever so slightly shaking voice. "What would you need to apologize for, Sarah? I believe you could have me flogged for lèse majesté, but it would be worth it."

For a moment Sarah looked up at him with a smile, but it died on her lips. "I was not insulted, Tiernan, but rather flattered. How could I not be? But, my lord Tiernan, it is wrong of me to kiss you. I would be taking advantage, and I do not believe that you are a man who could truly live with this."

Tiernan looked at her disbelievingly. "Taking advantage of me? I don't think that's quite the correct description of what just happened."

Sarah looked at him with hooded eyes and took off her right leather glove. "Whether you know it or not, lord Tiernan, it is. I did not realize myself until just now." She walked up close to him and lifted her hand to his face, and with delicate intention she caressed his cheek, and slowly and hungrily ran her fingers along his lips. Tiernan's breath came in a hiss as he leaned into her touch with unconscious urge, and his eyes went black and his face distorted in powerful hunger. Sarah desperately wished that she could give in to the desire building in her and find release in an embrace that did not unsettle her and make her doubt herself, but she knew that for Tiernan's sake she could not do it. She drew back her hand and stepped away from the Fae lord.

"You cannot resist my touch, lord Tiernan, even if you wanted, as my magic calls out to you when skin touches skin. It would not bother you now, and perhaps not for a long time, but eventually you would resent me. A hunger you cannot control, a need not of your choosing, a desire that cannot be quenched by an embrace, and you would know that it is not so for me. Like your brother you are too stubborn and too proud to accept anyone's power over you, and you would hate me."

"I could never hate you, lady Sarah," and Tiernan's voice shook.

"You are my friend, lord Tiernan, and I would not risk the possibility" Sarah said sadly, finality in her voice. "I need to live my live as I am called to it. And now I find that I cannot even find comfort in the arms of a man, for even one as strong as you is helpless against my touch. I am not Fae, to find pleasure in the adoration and desire of those who are unable to resist me. How could I ever trust it?" With a rueful smile Sarah turned on her heel and left Tiernan's office quickly.

* * *

Sarah did not return to the road, despite her original plans. Winter was coming and she did not relish the thought of spending the cold season in some village or other, alone and unable to talk honestly and openly to someone she cared for. And while all she told herself was true, she did not care to admit that she really wanted to stay in the goblin city, and the reason was not that she needed to plan what she could do to help the labyrinth and her people. For whatever courage Sarah possessed, her well-practiced distrustful attitude towards the goblin king and her doubts as to his motives made her cautious and weary, and she knew not what she felt. She doubted her ability to keep her wits about her when they touched, as she had been able with Tiernan, and she cared not to be ensnared by her body, and yet she found she could not simply leave.

The queen dropped some of her duties in the weeks that followed and took up new ones, first among them her return to the war council. The councilors were glad that the queen had recovered and welcomed her warmly. Toby had re-joined the meetings months before her, and he embraced her joyfully when she came in. She smiled and sat down next to him, but in the beginning she mostly listened and asked, trying to get a feel for what was happening after having been out of the loop for so long. It was as bad as Urit had described.

The labyrinth was relatively sure that none of its own power had been absorbed, but how could it be sure? It had no basis for comparison. And nobody knew how many parts of the goblin kingdom where lost to the labyrinth, and how many of its oathbound, for the labyrinth had no way to measure what had been taken from it. But as far as they could make out at present, the centers of population, the big roads and connections between cities and countries were untouched, and the parts of the kingdom severed from the labyrinth's conscience were small and hidden, and seemingly used to hide the dead bodies of the oathbound drained of life who had fallen prey to the man without a name. It seemed that the goblins had the ability to feel the wrongness of the severed parts, probably because they were part of the labyrinth itself and felt the break from themselves, but they were not always right, and it was hard to ascertain their findings.

But while the man without a name was obviously active in the goblin kingdom, he did still occasionally venture to the neighboring countries - never far from the borders, but he did terrible damage as he drained all he encountered on his forays. By now there were many hundreds of mage warriors from other countries in the goblin kingdom, blood-sworn to peace and protecting the people as well as to obedience to the goblin king and the goblin queen, for the Fae in all demesnes had realized that whatever his earlier promises, the enemy had gone mad with the powerful heart magic he had gathered, and he was a danger to all the underground, and could not be trusted. Should the man without a name prevail in the goblin kingdom, the end of their own rule seemed but a short step away, and Fae were nothing if not adaptable to changed circumstances.

So the discussions in the war council went on slowly and with little to show, for they did not know how to draw out the enemy or what his plans might be, and the mood was grim.

The one duty Sarah did not give up completely, despite what she had said to Jareth, were some of the diplomatic meetings. In the two years she had spent oblivious at court, she had managed to unknowingly impress several legates from other countries, and even back to her old self she knew that such was too valuable a connection to give up. Sarah had returned to her fractious self and found some of the admirers who had multiplied around her falling away again as her sharp tongue re-asserted itself, but when she met with the ambassadors' now, she was able to restrain herself. She knew that she would never have Nehorai's skill in dealing with others, as she lacked the prerequisite gentleness and kindness, but she knew how her shadow would have acted. So she spoke to the legates in the measured and quiet tones of Nehorai, and her tribute to her friend's memory was the success in her dealings.

To Sarah's utter astonishment Tiernan seemed to be less than discouraged by their last meeting. The Fae lord began to court her ever more determinedly, seeking out her out at every occasion and paying attention to her every whim as never before. He seemed to see her much more clearly than he had before, and Sarah realized disbelievingly that he even accepted her independence and her stubbornness. His used all his considerable charm to woo her, and when Sarah danced with him at any reception, she could feel his strong arms pull her close, and she was sorely tempted to give in to his seductive but unthreatening advances.

Sarah longed for distraction, and Tiernan's touch filled her senses with desire she could understand, and his presence did not leave her flustered, angry and aroused at the same time. After she had talked to Jareth after her return from the Mists, he treated her as he always had, and his taunting smile and his mocking words left her inexplicably furious, and he never touched her any more nor did he comment on his brother's courtship of her.

Sarah's nights were peaceful again, her sleep untroubled, and if she woke up from her dreams sometimes in tears, it was the way of things, for all who sleep are hunted from the peace of oblivion sometimes by the night mares.

* * *

Sarah could not bring herself to go to Jareth, and she tried to make herself forget about his touch but could not. And three weeks after her return she sat next to the goblin king on the dais for the Meán Gheimhridh celebration, and she smiled until her face was numb. She dreaded the night ahead alone in her rooms, Longest Night indeed, and she excused herself early, pleading headaches.

Sarah spent hours in her bath and drank some firewine, for would not a hot bath and some alcohol tire you out? They didn't. And as she paced restlessly through her rooms, the goblin king's rooms in the other tower were bright still, and with a curse she stood.

If he said one single mocking word, she would kill him and be done with it, she swore to herself. She did not bother to put any clothes over her chemise, for the labyrinth would keep her safe from prying eyes, and he had seen her in a lot less clothes before, so what was the point?

She stood before the door to the goblin king's rooms and tried to gather the courage to enter, but luckily for her determination Sed opened before she had to admit defeat. He looked at her happily, without judgment, and stepped back to let her in. Sarah smiled at the grinning goblin guards in the anteroom, they had to be the only creatures in the universe that could make her feel good right now, and it gave her the courage to go on to the door of Jareth's bedroom and enter.

Despite the late hour Jareth sat in the window, wearing a loose pair of pants and nothing else, and the light in the room cast a golden glow over his pale chest and caught in his unruly hair. He was lazily contact juggling at least five crystal balls in his left hand and flashes of light reflected crazily along the walls, but as he turned his head to the door and saw a belligerent looking Sarah at the door, he stilled and the lights moved no more. She was staring at him, her lips pressed to a tight line and her eyes narrowed, looking to all the world like a boxer preparing to be hit.

With a quick gesture the crystals disappeared, and he got up gracefully and walked over to Sarah. "I was beginning to despair that you would never come to me, my sweet," and his smile was open and without guile, and the welcome in his mismatched eyes was unmistakable.

Sarah's face relaxed and an uncertain smile touched her lips. "I was afraid, I think. I cannot think straight when you are close to me, and I don't like that."

Jareth's hand touched the locks on her head, and then his fingers moved down the side of her face. "Nobody would have suspected this from observing you, my dearest Sarah, you seemed in such perfect control of yourself all these last weeks."

Sarah shuddered as his fingers ran over her lips, and with a wild smile she placed her hand on his chest as she had before she had taken him out of time. With a smile matching hers, Jareth drew his fingers over the skin of Sarah's throat in a complex gesture, leaving them facing each other as naked as they had been born, before he drew her slowly into a sensual embrace and kissed her languidly, deliberately, and when he felt her nails cut into his skin he lifted her up with a quick movement and carried her to the bed.

Much later Sarah thought there were certain advantages to it being Meán Gheimhridh after all, not the least of which had to be that everybody slept longer in midwinter as the sun came up late, and she fell asleep entangled in Jareth's limbs and sheets. When she came to again the sky just began to turn grey and Jareth reached for her, grinning at her wolfishly, and proceeded to wake her up completely.

* * *

When she finally went back to her rooms hours later, she realized that while invisibility was useful, she still needed to be fast-footed to avoid running into the many people in the hallways and stairs. Thank the night in the last weeks she had taken to leaving the castle and take up her life in the goblin city again as Eir. She would not been seen in the castle for the whole day, so the fact that she had not shown her face this morning would not seem strange to anyone.

Half an hour later Sarah was ready and ravenous, and she had decided that spending the day as Eir was just what she needed, and plenty of errands to run, too. She tied her purse to her belt when she heard a knock from the door. She turned disbelievingly, for this door led to a wardrobe, or if she wanted it to, to her house in the lower city. Nobody but her and Nehorai had ever used it. Before she could collect herself, the door opened and Jareth stood there, and he smirked at her, then looked down fondly at the lacy chemise in his hand.

"I might be willing to trade your chemise for my shirt, Sarah," he purred. "Although I would not be averse if you did not want to trade at all. I believe the castle would be abuzz with gossip if they found my clothes in your rooms, and yours in mine. Just imagine the wonders this could do for my reputation as an irresistible lover." Behind him Sarah could see his bedroom through the doorframe, and she blinked several times as she stared at him mutely.

Jareth walked by her, deliberately brushing against her as he passed, and he put the chemise on her bed and picked up his shirt. He laughed at Sarah, who still stood thunderstruck and quiet. "I never believed I would see the day to see you speechless, Sarah," he said with deep satisfaction in his voice. "You must tell me what I did, my sweet, so I can do it again when necessary."

Finally Sarah found her voice again. "You know, you could have told me that there was an easier way to get back to my rooms unobservedly than trying to avoid running into people in the halls."

"You caught me unawares, Sarah, when you donned my shirt and left. I had just decided that a day of rest in my bed would be all I needed to recover from a short, unspecified illness, but there you were already, barely if attractively dressed in my shirt, and you left before I could inform you of our plans."

"And here I was under the impression that you were pondering a polite way of telling me that you really had to get to work. You should have seen your face, Jareth." Sarah laughed. "You looked miles away, and I thought it would be rude to overstay my welcome."

Jareth looked at her with dancing eyes. "I was gathering my strength, my sweet," he said grinning. "You are not an easy woman to entertain, and I really have no idea what gave you the idea you could possibly overstay my welcome. Too much of you is barely enough, Sarah."

Sarah blushed deep scarlet, and she stood on her toes and pulled Jareth's face down to hers for a kiss. When they came up for air an indeterminate time later, he said rather breathless: "It is still an excellent plan, my sweet. The queen is away, as she sometimes is, and the king is laid up sick. What do you say?"

"A brilliant plan, well worthy of the goblin king's cunning," and she laughed up at him, held close in his embrace, "but unlucky for you I am bloody hungry, and I have actually had enough time to think of some errands I should have done weeks ago, but did not. I would feel too guilty now. But I have developed clairvoyance, did you know? You need to keep your strength up, Jareth, for I can see that you will be ill for at least two days in the near future, and everyone will agree that you look exhausted when you get up from your sickbed again. It will be some illness that requires you to be left alone completely, with none but your goblins to look after you. I have no idea what it will be, but you better find out. I don't think Hina'ea or Ikiaq are the women you want to sooth your feverish brow, now do you?"

With obvious reluctance Jareth let go of her. "Not exactly all I could have hoped for, but a close second," he conceded. "And should you want to avoid staircases and hallways in the future, just try the door, my sweet." He grinned. "I suspect it opens to your quarters in town, wherever they may be. I told you, the magic of the labyrinth can easily transport you to wherever you need to if it is short enough, and a stone throw distance between our towers should not pose too much of a problem. Just think of me, and that should direct the door quite nicely." He pulled her hand to his lips and kissed her palm. Sarah had not known that it was possible to feel well-neigh faint from something as innocent as a kiss like that, but the goblin king had admirable abilities.

"And lady - don't let me wait as long the next time," Jareth murmured in her ear and turned to the door, and he closed it behind him with a flourish after a last wink.

With a sigh Sarah grabbed her woolen cloak from a chest and concentrated on her house in town before she opened the door again, and the rest of the day passed in a flurry of activity.

* * *

Yet for reasons Sarah did not understand herself, she did try to hold out against his embrace still, and she did not go to him that night nor the nights after, as much as she wanted to. And during the days nothing changed between them, and he was still the same stubborn, exasperating man he had ever been, and nobody could have told from his demeanor that anything had changed between them. He needled her and infuriated her as much as he ever had, but now he touched her teasingly again as he had before, and the unspoken promise in his touch and his smile stoked Sarah's anger and frustration to a fine peak, and she found herself arguing with him more than ever.

Yet finally she could keep herself away no longer, and while she managed to work herself into a considerable huff beforehand, she still spend much time to make herself as beautiful as she could and donned a lovely, finely embroidered silk chemise. Jareth's bedroom was empty, and Sarah stomped to the door of his adjacent study to find the goblin king reading in a chair before the fireplace.

"I admit, I had hoped for less than a sennight, but you are making progress, Sarah," and he rose from his chair and drew her into a lingering kiss. "If you keep up your momentum, it should not take long until you manage to force yourself to submit to my evil ways every night, my sweet." He drew her onto his lap as he sat down in his chair again, and offered her a glass of firewine. Sarah smiled at him, all her anger gone in a heartbeat when she saw him, and she tucked under her feet and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"It must have been a fear of a fate worse than death that kept me away," she said as she drank the firewine.

"Undoubtedly," he replied amusedly. "Why is it, Sarah, that you cannot ever accept anything to do with me without having to fight? "

She looked at him with guarded eyes even as a smile danced on her lips. "I don't know, Jareth. Perhaps because you are a manipulative bastard? Don't pretend you have never thought of using me, my power, make me do your bidding. And it would be so easy to give in to you." Her hand touched his face by its own volition, and her eyes went wide and black as she followed the line of his nose and eyebrows. "Around you, I am just another human who is drawn to a Fae, no better than the pets of the Matagan Fae."

Jareth ran his fingers along her jaws and down her throat, and his eyes were as black as her's. "I feel no pity, my sweet. Why should you be in a better position than I am? And imagine the pain for a Fae to find the roles reversed." He grinned at her irrepressibly as he pulled her closer into a kiss, and it effectively ended any discussion for the time being.

And still, Jareth was right, it did take Sarah a good few weeks before she finally caved and came to his room every night, and it took her even longer to stop complaining about it. Yet to her surprise he acquiesced to her need for control and let her be, and as passionate and all-consuming as their encounters were, he never demanded anything of her but what she offered of her own free will, and he did not ask her anything but what she told him without prompting. Sarah did not know what it meant, nor did she truly trust it, but her hunger for his presence was too strong for her let it stop her.

Yet as the days got longer and the snow began to thaw, Sarah felt the pull of the road again, and even the bone-deep need she had for Jareth began to dwarf against her desire for solitude, and she began to dream of traveling again. And still her desire and joy of Jareth' companionship kept her in the goblin city as Beltain approached.

But one night, in the early hours of the morning, when the night is at its darkest and coldest and only the light of the waning moons lights the darkness, the goblin queen sat wrapped tightly in the arms of the goblin king in the window of his tower, and he rested his head against her neck as she chided him about some argument or other they had had the day before.

"You will never stay with me in the goblin city, will you, Sarah?" She was leaning bonelessly against his chest, his right leg hot against her side while his other leg dangled down the ledge. His voice was low and held no rancor or accusation.

Sarah went rigid for a heartbeat, then melted into his embrace again. "It is what I am, goblin king, but you must know that I did not choose it so. When I stay too long in a place, awake and myself, I have the unbearable need to feel the sun and the on my skin, and I need to leave the crowds behind me so I can be alone in my mind with the labyrinth. I hunger for silence. I have lived thus in the Underground since I came here, and I cannot change myself, as little as you can change who you are." As she leaned against him, she lifted her hand and wrapped it around his neck behind her, pulling him closer.  
"But I swear, I will always come back to you, Jareth."


End file.
